


The Game

by JulianGreystoke



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Mass Effect Fusion, Anxiety, Arena, Asexual Character, Attack, Battle, Danger, Death, Diverse Characters, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of crowds, Female Lead, Gay Character, Guards, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Mass Effect 1, Multi, Original Species, Original alien, Pansexual Character, Queer Characters, Romance, Slavery, Social Anxiety, Space Gays, Space Station, Strong Language, Teams, Xenosexual Character, battle royal, fight for your life, no explicit sex, outside council space, pilot, slave - Freeform, the traverse, violenece
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 01:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 194,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8513209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulianGreystoke/pseuds/JulianGreystoke
Summary: Keep your head down, never show your emotion on your face, don't cause trouble.  These are the tenants Song lives by as a slave to the muu, a mysterious new race in the Traverse.  These strategies have kept her alive, even happy, as she works for a wealthy muu family... until Song finds herself on the wrong end of an auction block and she is sold into a world she could never possibly have prepared for.  A space station broadcasting into space.  Broadcasting a dark and deadly game filled with unwilling fighters like Song.  Her only chance to survive is to forget who she was and become someone much stronger than she ever imagined.Unwilling Song is forced to ally with a troublesome human pilot and an unusual salarian in their struggle to survive impossible odds.  They say winners are rewarded, but never freed.  All for the entertainment of their captors in 'The Game'.





	1. Slaves Like Us

**Author's Note:**

> 'The Game' is only a working title. It may change.  
> This story does take place in the ME universe, but some time during the events of early ME1. Shepard is alive out there, but he/she is doing their own thing while the events of this story unfold far out in the traverse. Naturally, as of writing this, ME:A is not out yet, so that game will not be a factor. This story will be primarily original and you will not be seeing any of your favorite ME characters, though there may be a few Easter eggs from time to time.

Chapter 1  
Slaves Like Us

Song raised her head, blinking in the dim light of the carrier hold. She had been dosing in her seat and her neck crackled with stiffness. She squared her shoulders against the cold bulkhead behind her and listened intently, trying to figure out what had wakened her. She peered through the dimness of the narrow hold to a salarian seated across from her, close enough that his long legs might brush hers if he was not curled so tightly. Like herself, the alien was secured to the wall with magnetic cuffs on his wrists and ankles. His huge, dark eyes were open and he turned his head curiously, seemingly having heard the same whatever-it-was that had stirred Song from her sleep.

There was a moment of stillness and all Song could hear was her breathing and the steady hum of the ship around them.

A metallic 'thud' reverberated the wide, sliding door near the salarian and caused them both to jump. The door squealed unwillingly open and three figures appeared, the light behind them momentarily blinding. Blinking furiously, Song soon recognized two of the figures as the batarian slavers Romnus and Corvek. Between them a third figure struggled. After much squinting and blinking her watering eyes she was finally able to make out a human male twisting and attempting to throw punches as he was hauled into the hold. He was cuffed and hobbled, which she knew the batarian's wouldn't have bothered with for her. She had been a slave long enough to know how to behave.

The new human was was well muscled, with brown hair that was a sloppy bottle-brush of fresh stubble. She wondered idly when he had been captured. The slavers only took able-bodied adult males when the situation presented little threat. If this man was newly captured, she thought, he had probably been alone.

“Stop struggling,” growled Romnus, in a tone which implied this was not the first time he had said it. “It will go much easier for you if you behave yourself. Just look at these two.” He gestured to Song and the salarian, who had already put his head back down, as if in slumber.

The struggling man didn't reply, but attempted a two footed kick as he was slammed down onto the metal bench, beside Song. His attack was easily thwarted when Corvek magnetized his hobbles and the man's feet slammed to the floor with a sold 'clunk'. Song grimaced faintly, then settled her face into a more neutral expression so as not to show her displeasure. There were so many empty seats left, why did she get the trouble maker?

“There,” Romnus sighed, patting the man's head patronizingly. “Now you sit still and be good. We'll soon have you delivered to your new owners.”

The man bit at the batarian's hand. Both slavers laughed. “Fighting spirit! Good. Exactly what was requested. The buyer will be pleased.” They left, still chuckling greedily to one another. The door slammed shut with a hiss and a clank leaving the slaves alone in the semi-dark.

Song thought this was the end of it, and was about to let her head sag again for sleep, when the man beside her spoke. “My name is Cale Blake. What's yours?”

She considered him for a moment before answering. “My name is Song.”

“Just Song?” he raised a thick eyebrow.

“I was named by my masters. The Muu are very literal and you can usually tell a career slave by how their named.” she said, a tiny smirk edging onto her full lips. This Cale was definitely brand new. He was going to have a tough road ahead.

“There's no such thing as a career slave,” he snorted.

“It's what they call us.” The salarian had raised his head and was watching with slight irritation on his long face. “It's a term for those who were born into slavery, or taken into it very young.”

Cale looked back and forth between them. “So you've both been slaves your whole lives?”

“I think I was born in a colony, but I have been a slave as long as I can remember.” Song tried to settle herself, but the wall behind her was cold and she had been forced to sit in the same attitude for hours. Every muscle was beginning to complain, but she kept this to herself.

“What's your name?” Cale addressed the Salarian.

“I'm called Five,” the lanky alien answered. “And before you ask a foolish question, yes, I have also been a slave all my life.” His voice was matter-of-fact.

“So why does Song get a name and you only get a number?” Cale asked, squinting at Five across the narrow cell.

“Because I was bought in a clutch of eggs. They didn't need any other way to keep track of us, numbers were simpler.”

Song peered through the dimness of the crimson running lights along the floor at the salarian. His skin was a rusty red, which became more pronounced on his forehead and horns, and was speckled with spots of white. She imagined she could have told him apart from the others.

He went on, “I was never named by the muu like Song.”

“Alright,” Cale wriggled, seemingly checking his cuffs for tightness. “I give up. Who or what are the muu?”

Song raised an eyebrow. Was she really going to have to explain everything to this idiot? She didn't have any stake in his life or death, but she couldn't bring herself to see him take on his new life as clueless as he was. She heaved a sigh, “You really aren't from around here, are you? The muu are a race out here in the Terminus systems. They're prime buyers of slaves from the batarians, and they're the up and coming power out here at the ass end of the galaxy. Some day they might even cross into Council controlled space. Make the the ruling species sit up and take notice.” Song cast back to memories of the father of her previous mistress. How he had strutted across the room, pontificating about the journey his people would one day make to the Citadel. How they would demand to be made a council race. Of course, he had only spoken of this with his family. Ultimately he was a blowhard who didn't dare rock the boat.

“Except that they're so lazy, from what I've heard,” Five cut in.

“Not lazy, exactly,” Song shook her head.

Five pressed on. “The muu could colonize more planets out here if they wanted to. Really take hold of the Terminus, but they won't. They're too busy with their internal squabbling and their entertainment.”

“Entertainment?” Cale asked.

“The muu love to be entertained. It's almost like they're allergic to boredom,” Song chuckled remembering her duties at her previous home. Her young muu mistress had required constant stimulation. “The little girl I took care of at my last post was so funny that way. She loved to watch vids, when she wasn't begging me to play some game or another.”

“What do the muu look like?” Five's voice echoed off the metal walls.

Song wondered that he was a slave out here and hadn't seen any of the masters. Perhaps salarians weren't as popular as humans. “They're taller than us,” she began, trying to find the best was to describe them. They have four legs and two arms. The legs are a little spider-like and they're longer in the torso than us,” she considered for a moment. “Their hands aren't as skillful as ours.” she found herself wishing she could raise her arms to indicate her opposable thumb. “They've developed great skill with biotics to compensate for lack of dexterity. They can manipulate objects with biotic fields, but they find this draining on a large scale, which I imagine is why they rely on slave labor.”

“You both seem very calm about being enslaved,” Cale commented.

Song hesitated. Even if she tried she knew she could not recall a time before her masters. Before her life was a series of tasks to please them. She had been well treated. She knew of some whose masters would use their biotics to make loads heavier, or to hurl objects at their slaves. “What else would we do?” she turned her head and met the man's blue eyes with her deep brown.

“I don't know,” Cale sounded annoyed. “Anything you wanted?”

Song had never given much thought to 'wanting'. “My masters gave me free time,” she said, certain that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

“What did you do in your free time?”

“I played games of strategy with some of the other slaves when I could,” she said, feeling a little proud. As a house slave she had been educated and she always beat the grounds slaves at games. “Sometimes I would sing, which is why my masters gave me my name. I'm told that when I first came to them they asked what talents I had, so I just started singing. I must have been so nervous that day.”

Cale was staring at her with a concerned and confused expression. As though she was slowly transforming into a toad before his eyes. She glared at him, then resolved to go back to sleep. There wasn't any use talking to this uneducated man anyway. She'd given him enough to get started. The rest of his life was none of her business.

“What did you do before, Five?” It seemed Cale wasn't finished. Song had to bite back an annoyed groan.

The salarian didn't answer for a moment. Song wondered if he too had decided he was done answering questions. “I was...unwanted. I was taken from slave ring to slave ring, never purchased until now.”

Song looked up. She had never heard of a slave going unpurchased for so long. She watched the lanky creature across from her, wondering if he had some deformity. Some flaw that was not readily noticeable. After a few moments under her scrutiny he raised his large eyes and stared her down. Song found herself suddenly more interested in a rivet on the floor as he clarified, “Salarians are plentiful, but we don't make good laborers. I thought maybe I'd never be placed.”

“Well, you were now,” Song said. She rested her chin on her collar bone, but didn't close her eyes.

“That is supposed to be reassuring?” Cale snapped, staring at them both with unconcealed concern. 

Song didn't answer. Five may have been happy to have a placement at last, but Song was not pleased with the events that had brought her to this transport ship. The muu matured quickly and the little girl Song had been charged with had grown into an imperious adult who had no more need for her nursemaid. Song had assumed she would be given a job around the household, but instead she found herself on the auction block as though her years of faithful service meant nothing. And perhaps they didn't. The muu were an impersonal and often cold people. Song had good friends amongst her fellow slaves. Bonds bordering on familial with some, but for the muu relationships were a thing of steely necessity rather than emotion. They became mated pairs to better their stations in life. The romances the slaves engaged in were seen as frivolous and sometimes repulsive by their masters.

Distantly Song was aware that her two companions were still talking in low tones. Her mind was now overcrowded with the faces of her fellow slaves when they had said goodbye. One turian in particular had been her friend. Bright Eyes she had been called. The two had played many games of strategy and Bright Eyes was one of the few who proved an actual challenge for Song. Just as she was envisioning her turian's fond, angular face, the slave ship gave a lurch and there was a distant clanging rattle.

“We're docking,” Cale leaned forward, tugging against his bonds. Song wondered how he knew.

Shortly the batarians were back, smiling sharp toothed grins at their prisoners, holding the remotes to release their magnetic cuffs. One stopped in front of Song and nodded to her. When her cuffs demagnetized from the wall she docilely clasped her hands before herself as the cuffs stuck to each other once again. There was no need to hobble her, she walked where she was bidden. Five behaved in the same manner. Though he stood taller than his captors, he made no fuss.

Cale was a different story. Song found it difficult to watch as the batarians used the shock batons on him until the human was doubled over and gasping in pain. Song thought Romnus gave Cale a few more jabs than were strictly necessary, but she kept her expression completely neutral. She allowed her eyes to go hollow and expressionless, something she learned in her time with the muu. As if she had no thoughts or meotions at all. 

The two slavers, engaged as they were with Cale, had turned their backs on her and Five. In her mind's eye she saw herself darting forward and throwing her arms over one of the batarian's heads and then strangling them with all her strength. These unhelpful flights of fancy happened more than she liked to admit. Cale believed she was a calm and docile slave, but in her mind she was a wild creature that might attack at a moment's notice. She dug her nails into her palms as Cale yelped again in pain.

With Cale subdued and stumbling along, a line of drool dangling from his slack lips, the three slaves were ushered from the holding bay and out of the small slaving vessel. Song had been expecting to be let out onto a planet. Had anticipated plants, trees and sky. The muu valued and cultivated the beauty of nature on their worlds. Instead they were walked down a pristine, white hallway. They passed a window and she looked out into star freckled blackness. “A station,” she exhaled, feeling dread flood her. No. This wasn't right. Perhaps the slavers were only dropping Five and Cale off here. She was too valuable and well trained to be a mere station laborer. Was another auction being held here so she could be passed on to a proper household?

The hallways were empty and sterile and soon the three slaves were guided into a small, circular room. There were no windows here and the walls were the same, clinical white. The only color was a blue sign above a door at the room's other end read “processing” in the muu language. Song swallowed as she was made to stand in line with her companions. Only her behavior conditioning was keeping her still and passive. She wasn't going to be a station laborer. No, this was far, far worse. Sweat began to pool under her grey jumpsuit. She was unable to keep her eyes from darting around as her breathing sped up. No. Be calm. Reveal nothing.

A male muu, dressed in lavish and colorful robes, entered by a third door, which blended in with the walls so well Song had not even seen it. His feet clacked distractingly against the floor. The muu looked haughtily at them down his rounded, almost non-existent nose. Before him, suspended in a delicate bubble of biotic energy, floated a data pad. The muu glanced at it briefly before casting a baleful gaze on the slaves. “I ordered three more fighters and this is what you bring me?” He asked in galaxy common.

“You weren't very specific,” Corvek drawled, folding his arms. His upper two eyes were hooded and impassive, but his lower two shone with a dangerous light. Song hated the way batarian eyes could contradict each other. “You said you needed three new slaves and that males were better. You needed them in a hurry. When you rush us, you sacrifice quality. I got you two males and the female was cheap and close by. Now stop complaining and pay us.”

The muu sighed, but the blue energy around the data pad flashed and Song heard the beeping sound of buttons being pressed. The muu usually didn't bother with things like data pads, but it was the easiest way to interact with the rest of the galaxy, which, for the most part, had thumbs.

“Very well,” the muu said “The agreed upon price has been added to your account.”

“Thanks for your business. They're all yours,” Corvek said, passing the muu the remote for the slaves' cuffs before he and Romnus strode off without a backward glance.

“Now then” the muu addressed the slaves in the same cool tone he had been using on the slavers. “If you will kindly step, one at a time, through the processing door, we can begin.”

“Excuse me-” Song was urprised to hear her voice fill the space. In her old position she had been allowed to address the masters if the matter was important, and she certainly felt that this was.

The muu hesitated, blinking lazily down at her. His expression was not dismissive so Song went on. “Please, sir. Where are we?”

There was pride in his voice as he answered her. “You are aboard Transmisphere station.”

“The Transmisphere station?” Song's eyes grew wide. This was some kind of horrible mistake. Panic crawled into her veins like ice water.

“The one and only,” smiled the muu, showing blunt, rounded teeth. “The largest broadcasting station of it's kind. Exciting, isn't it?”

“Yes sir,” Song replied out of habit.

“What's going on?” Five whispered catching on to her unease. Cale was still huddled over, seemingly oblivious to the world for the moment.

Song couldn't bring herself to answer as the three began to walk towards the door with its ominous label “processing” Five took the lead. He kept his head tilted so as to hear Song as she hissed, “this is the largest broadcasting station in the galaxy for The Game.”

“The what?”

There was no time to answer as the door led into another, occupied by three female humans. They were clad in identical white uniforms and smiled in a way that Song was familiar with. The expression did not reach any of the women's eyes.

“Please come with me,” said the woman nearest Song, raising a hand to usher the slave through a nearby door. The other women encouraged Cale, who was beginning to come out of his stupor, and Five, into similar doors father down the way.

Song felt a stream of sweat trickle its way down her spine, but she did as she was told. Clearly the white clad woman was also a slave here. Perhaps Song herself would become one of these people. As an ex-household slave she would be perfect for such a role. Her mind hurriedly calculated how she might best convince her new masters of her skill and value as she was ushered into another white room with a shower at one end. Shelves, which matched the sterile walls, were barely visible beside it. Songs's cuffs demagnetized and her hands were free. “Please take off your old clothes,” instructed the woman.

Song began to strip without question. This was standard. Every master wanted their new slaves to be fresh, with no hints of their previous posting. Song handed the woman her jumpsuit and underthings, then she looked to the shower, anticipating her next instruction.

The water turned on and Song stepped under the strong jets. It was was not unpleasant, but smelled of chemicals. It made her skin tingle. She rubbed her hands through her buzzed, black hair. In a moment the woman handed her a bar of soap. There was no curtain for the shower, but the other slave kept her eyes respectfully aimed at the floor. Masters thought slaves had no modesty. Song lathered her dark brown skin with the soft, white soap on one of the little shelves, noting a few dark freckles on her shoulders. Her form was lean and decently muscled, but certainly not as fit as the guards. She worked hard, and would lift and carry often, but her life was pampered compared to others she knew.

Song was glad that she was aloud to shower on her own. She knew that sometimes new masters used high pressure hoses to bathe their acquisitions. These people must know that she had been a house slave who would carry no diseases. Then a sickly thought made her stomach plunge. Maybe it didn't matter here. She worked hard to keep her face schooled into an expression of blank stillness as she finished washing.

A few moments later the woman handed Song a towel. As Song pulled it around herself she heard the distant sound of a man shouting. She didn't have to listen long to know it was Cale. She heard snippets of what he was yelling.

“No I will not take off my fucking clothes, are you kidding?”

Song winced.

“I heard the human male was not a slave previously,” the woman remarked in a monotone, turning to fetch some new clothes which had appeared for Song while she had showered. Her old garments were gone, but Song didn't worry. She had not attachment to them. She had learned not to value any possessions.

“Do you know where the slavers found him?” Song asked as a string of cussing caught her attention.

“No,” admitted the woman, helping Song to slip into tan, wide-legged cargo pants and a white, short sleeved shirt. Attached to the shirt were three belts that went around her ribs and buckled at the front. The woman secured them loosely. “Tighten if you need more support for your ribs,” she said. Song didn't like the sound of that. She couldn't help but notice she was not being dressed like the woman. She was being dressed for something else, and she had a hunch she knew what. “The man is very uncooperative,” the woman went on, passing Song tall, durable boots which came to her knees when she pulled them on. “I was very glad when I was not assigned to him. Poor Patch. She has her work cut out for her.”

Song guessed that Patch must be the slave assigned to process Cale. She almost smiled at the thought. Part of her wished she could watch the show. The other part of her was still silently panicking. She wanted more than anything to ask this slave the one question which would spell out her fate, but she didn't. It was as if the answer might make everything real. If she remained in denial what she guessed was happening, wouldn't.

After Song was fully dressed the woman gave her a spare set of identical clothes and ushered towards the other end of the hallway into another rounded room, equally as white as everything else.

The salarian, Five, had finished his shower first. He was dressed in his species' equivalent of Song's attire. He looked at her with wide, soulful eyes as she stepped back into the room. Around the outside of the room stood three little cots that struck out from the wall. A small, round table took up the center of the room and there was a square footlocker at the end of each cot. Song's hands were trembling and she was glad that she was still carrying the pile of her new clothes so no one would see. Her control was dangerously close to slipping, but she kept it in place. I must be stone, she thought to herself as she looked around at the cots. Five seemed to have claimed one so she selected the cot opposite him, the table standing between them.

“Lights out is in ten minutes,” the slave woman in white said.

Song flipped open her little locker and exhaled a shaky breath. She settled her change of clothes into the box and closed it with a little more force than she intended. The sound made Five jump, but the slave at the door looked on, benignly. Song hated this woman. This woman wasn't wearing the special uniform she and Five had been given. This woman knew her job and it didn't put her in harms way. Song envisioned herself pouncing the woman and pinning her against the wall, demanding to know what was going on. Instead she sat on her cot and folded her hands as though waiting for her cuffs to be activated. It seemed the most natural attitude.

Cale burst stumbling and swearing into the room. He was still dripping wet and his clothing was a mess. His shirt was only half on and none of the buckles were done up. Song cocked an eyebrow as she caught sight of an elaborate tattoo on his well muscled chest. The jumpsuit had not done the man any justice. Now that Song took in all of him she was impressed. His skin was pale and muscles of every description rippled beneath. There was little need for a slave to be so well built, she mused as she watched him flail about, swearing and throwing punches at everyone and everything in range. Two male slaves had been called in to help manage him. One was a turian, clad in the same white garb as the two humans. Being somewhat taller than Cale the turian managed to subdue the man long enough to shove him into the room with Five and Song. The door slammed shut.

Cale stood for some time, beating at the door with his fists and shouting. “Hey! Hey, you fuckers! Let me out of here! I don't belong here! I'm not a slave! I work for the alliance! Do you hear me? Heeeeey!”

“Human, please shut up,” said Five after Cale had ranted for several minutes without flagging. The salarian sat on his own bunk, which was low enough to the ground that his knees were almost up against his chest. At least the bunk was long enough for him to lay down, Song mused. Her heart was still beating too fast, but it was easier, now that things were settling down, for her to imagine scenarios in which she wasn't royally fucked, even if those were far flung dreams at this point.

Cale finally slid to his knees, leaning his head against the door. “Fuck. What the fuck is this?” He asked in a more reasonable tone, though his voice was raspy from shouting.

“This is the Transmisphere,” Song said.

“And what is that?” Cale turned, levering his body around so he was sitting and staring up at Song. He brought his knees to his chest and rested his arms on them.

“One of the largest entertainment transmission stations in Terminus. Run by the muu of course, to broadcast some of their favorite programming.”

“It's a television station?” Cale tilted his head. He had a wide jaw and a nose that looked like it might have been broken once and had healed imperfectly.

“A what?” Five and Song asked together.

“Never mind,” Cale waved a big hand, dismissive. “I suppose a better question would be: what are we doing here?”

Song swallowed. Even Five, who had previously been doing his utmost to ignore them, was paying attention now. Song could feel his focus on her like a weight. She took in a large, shuddering breath, clasping and unclasping her fingers. “The muu have wide and varied tastes in entertainment. I've seen a lot of it, as a house slave. Everything from programs about singing to... to this. I saw broadcasts from the Transmishpere a few times. They show exclusively one time of program, and it is very popular.”

“Alright, but what does that have to do with us?” Asked Cale. “Are we supposed to be actors?”

“The program they run is filmed here on the station. It's...a battle royale. Teams of fighters are placed into a holographic arena. It's different every time. The muu make bets, teams fall in and out of favor, it's wildly successful. People get hurt in these games. People get killed. It doesn't matter because they're all slaves.”

Cale didn't speak for a long moment. His eyes were like ice as they bored into Song. She wished both of her new roommates would stop looking at her. She wanted to fade back into the wall, though she knew she stood out against the glistening white even worse than Five did with his coppery skin. Cale opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “Slaves...? Like us?”

Song felt as though the floor had dropped out from under her. Her stomach was in her throat and she couldn't answer at first. Even as he asked the realization she had been staving off finally slammed into her like a shuttle. Her heart thundered and she knew her veneer of calm must be eroding away by the second. “Yes,” she said, her voice a little too clear, a little too loud. “Yes, slaves like us.”


	2. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out some sketches at the end of a few of the characters!

Chapter 2  
Yellow

The lights went out. Soundlessly and suddenly. Song might have expected a click or even a shuddering vibration as some imagined switch somewhere was thrown, but instead the light was completely gone, plunging her and her new companions into utter darkness.

After a moment of sitting and blinking, trying to let her eyes adjust, she noticed that the table in the center of the room was beginning to glow faintly. Well, that was something, If she needed to get up during the night she wouldn't kill herself smashing into what meager furniture they were allowed. Soon she could make out the shapes of the other two people. Cale was still sitting against the wall, looking around, scanning what he could see of ceiling and floor. She guessed what he was doing. Trying to work out how he might make an escape. She hadn't known many non 'career slaves' but those she did had always been looking for an exit. Was freedom so intoxicating that they would risk anything just to try for it?

Five was looking at her. She turned, meeting his gaze. He had a very intense stare that seemed to bore through her to the wall behind. “What?” she finally asked, folding her arms defensively and leaning back.

“You think we're really here to fight in this 'Game'?” He made air quotes with one finger from each hand.

Song cast her eyes down at her lap, letting her arms fall she clasped her hands so tightly her fingers ached. If she was right then almost certain death awaited them. “I might be wrong.” She said, though her words were devoid of conviction.

“The muu can't do this! This is illegal! They can't fight slaves against each other in some kind of death pit!” Cale yelled, too loudly. Without warning everyone's wrist cuffs snapped together. “Ow!”

“It might be illegal in council space,” said Five. “Out here anything goes.”

“So... what? We fight until we die in these games?” Cale asked.

“Usually,” Song replied, flopping to her side on her cot and drawing up her legs so she was laying in the fetal position. “From what I've seen the best fighters get special privileges. Better weapons, good food, all that. No one gets freed though. And no one escapes.” She aimed her last words pointedly at Cale.

“That you know of,” the man countered. She heard him stand up and shuffle his way around the room, investigating it for cracks. There was another door outline at the opposite end of the room from the shower hallway. He kept moving along the wall and shortly found a button on the wall near the foot of Song's cot and pressed it excitedly, only to reveal a small washroom. “Well, I suppose that does answer one question.”

Song ground her teeth as she dug into her palms with her finger nails. In her mind's eye she could still see herself back home, safe and sound in her familiar slave barracks. This time of night she would have recently put her mistress to bed and finished her last few chores before settling in to relax and laugh with her fellow slaves in the barracks. She closed her eyes so she could better envision that world. It was difficult. Everything here smelled utterly sterile and there were no sounds of the household or the lush jungle outside. Bright eyes should be chatting with her. Maker would be setting up a game and the others fighting over who would play first. Now all she heard was the rustle of Cale moving about and everyone's anxiety breathing.

“When do you think we'll be dropped into the arena?” Cale asked.

Song opened an eye in annoyance. “I have no idea. But you're not just dropped in. You have to find a team.”

“Do they assign teams?” Cale had done a full circuit of the room and seemed to be contemplating making another pass.

“How should I know?” Song said, immediately regretting continuing this conversation.

“You saw it being broadcast.”

“All I saw was part of a couple matches. Yellow team was losing, but then again, I got the idea that they usually do. Red team was dominating and some krogan ripped someone else's head off.” Song mumbled, curling up tighter and nuzzling her cheek into the small, square pillow. It was not very comfortable.

She heard Five hiss in a breath at her words. She found her own mind replaying a vision of the scene she had witnessed. She had been playing with her young charge on a day when the extreme weather forced them to stay indoors. The child would hide and Song's job was to seek. She'd been looking around the house when she walked into one of the leisure rooms to find the adults enjoying a program on the large screen. Song had only been able to keep her eyes on it for a few moments. A small map in the lower corner showed multicolored dots which she guessed must represent the various players on each team. The main view had panned in from a wide shot to a close-up of a Red Team krogan snatching up a Yellow Team fighter and ripping the human's head clean off. All the muu cheered and Song had fled the room and tried to keep from losing her breakfast all over the floor.

Now all Song wanted was to turn over and face away from these two strangers to go to sleep, but she doubted her memories would let her. Plus she felt compelled to keep half an eye on Cale.. He was putting her on edge with his constant motion.

Five too was scrutinizing Cale, large eyes narrow, thin mouth set in a line. “I've been in a lot of prison compounds, human, and this one is better than all of those. I don't think you're going to escape.”

“You both can sit around feeling sorry for yourselves if you like,” said Cale, running his fingers along the crack in the wall which outlined the second door. There was no internal handle and the crack was so thin Song doubted a piece of paper could be slid into it. She wanted to scold Cale as well, but kept her mouth shut. Partly because she thought it she did open it, she might vomit.

“I'm going to sleep,” Five announced. “I suspect we'll have a taxing day tomorrow.”

“And if we die tomorrow?” Cale turned, glowering at Five in the dimness.

“Then that will be a very taxing day,” the salarian said, turning over on his bed and arranging long limbs in a way that made Song wonder how he could possibly be comfortable.

“What about you? You just going to sleep and hope you survive the morning?” Cale demanded of Song, once again trapping her with his pale blue eyes.

Song said nothing. Her mouth was tight and it felt as though her jaw had locked shut, which suited her. She schooled her face into an expressionless mask, the way she had taught herself to do over the years. The muu sometimes avoided human slaves, saying they were too emotional. Song had prepared herself to be the best slave she could be. Now it gave her a feeling of control when she knew she had none. They could make her afraid, but they couldn't make her show it.

Cale watched her for a moment then let out a frustrated grumble and smashed his cuffed fists against the door. With a metallic snap all of their ankle cuffs came together. Song heaved a sigh. Five looked up, his displeasure palpable. “Stop making loud noises before they cuff us to the walls for the night!”

Cale groaned and flopped to the floor. He reminded Song of a child having a tantrum. Muu children were prone to those, especially if they were not being entertained well enough. She gritted her teeth all the harder until it sent little stabs of pain through her skull. This took her mind off of her situation for a few moments and she reveled in it.

Cale seemed to have tired himself out and settled to sleep in a pile on the floor. Song wondered faintly if he was a bit wrong in the head before she allowed her own eyes to close, ignoring the pinching of the cuffs and the way they made her feet tuck together awkwardly. Sleep, when it came, was filled with dreams of beheadings. She saw her muu family standing over her, cheering as a krogan in red armor with a white skull painted on the front, reached for her over and over again.

~~~~~

She had no concept of time through the night and when the light came on in the morning she woke up with a start, nearly tipping off her cot. The lights turned on as they had turned off. With complete and unexpected abruptness. Song had to put up her hands to cover her eyes as the white walls reflected the light around her. It was with this motion that she noticed her wrist cuffs were no longer magnetized, and her ankles were free as well.

“Damn. I thought maybe this had been a dream,” came the glum voice of Five from across the room.

Song managed to peer between her fingers. Cale was still on the floor, though now he had moved to one side, crouching with his back against the wall beside thin outline of the door. “What-” Song asked, trying to remove her hands from her face and blinking rapidly.

“Shhh,” Cale hissed, raising a finger to his lips.

Song rolled her eyes, then fixed her features back into their accustomed, dull mask. She stretched, glad of the freedom from her cuffs to do so. Her back was all in knots and her arms and legs felt as though she had been stuffed into a metal box that was too small for her. She cracked her neck back and forth, taking in a big breath before retreating to the washroom to splash water on her face from the sink therein, as well as relieve herself of a night's worth of urine.

Once she and Five had finished these minimal morning routines they returned to their cots, uncertain what was expected of them now. Song's stomach felt like a balled up fist in her gut. She hoped, if they were going to die, they'd be fed before hand. Cale was still hunkered beside the door, ear pressed to the wall. Song cocked an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

After a moment of uneasy silence Song too heard noises from outside the door. She wondered what was beyond it and at the same time didn't wan to know. Cale tensed, his expression intense.

Song arranged herself so that if her cuffs were reactivated it wouldn't hurt her. Five, watching, followed her example. The door snapped open so fast it was a blur. Cale reacted. He lashed out with a foot, striking the shin of the batarian who had just stepped inside. The guard, for that was clearly what he was, yelped and hopped backwards. The turian guard behind him laughed, whipping out his baton. The end sparked with electricity and even Song flinched away as the turian aimed it at Cale. “You have to watch these new ones, they're feisty,” the turian said, still chuckling.

“Funk you, Mordo!” Snarled the batarian.

“Try it, human.” The turian was still aiming his electrified baton at Cale, who seemed to be warring with himself between trying for another attack, and avoiding a zap.

He finally lowered his hands, which had been poised to throw punches, cutting his eyes downward, if only for a second. He slowly straightened to stand almost as tall as the turian. Song was tall herself, for a human female, but Cale still had a good few inches on her. However, he kept his posture subdued for the moment. “Look,” he said in a low voice to the turian, Mordo. “This is all a big mistake. I'm not a slave like them.” He jabbed his finger back in the direction of Five and Song. “I'm a pilot. I have papers... well, I did have papers until my kidnappers took them. I don't belong here.”

The batarian laughed dryly, stepping into the room to rejoin his fellow guard. “You were captured by slavers, Mr. Pilot. That makes you a slave.”

“I was on a cargo haul. If I don't show up at my destination they'll-”

“Look, human,” the turian shoved his sharp face close to Cale's, “I don't give a flying fuck what your employers will think. Caring about you is so far out of my job description I could probably get fired for doing it. Now get a move on out this door before I give a little tickle in the ribs with Mr. Zappy.”

Song cocked at eyebrow at 'Mr Zappy'. She and Five moved obediently towards the door, skirting wide around Cale, who was still glaring at the guards.

“Look at these two,” said the batarian. He clasped his hand on the back of Song's neck as she passed him. Song tensed as though ice ran down her spine as she stopped, keeping her expression as neutral as ever. Her eyes as dull as one already dead. Inside she was snarling and it was all she could do not to wrench herself free. She wanted to punch the batarian in his smug face then, when he was down, kick him and never stop kicking. Instead she looked at the spot where the floor met the wall. “These two are career slaves. They know what's what. You should behave more like them.” Thankfully the batarian released Song's neck with a little jerk. She and Five hurried out the door, followed by a very sullen looking Cale.

The wide hallway that met them was crowded. Guards were everywhere, herding slaves wearing the same attire as Song and her companions. The slaves were of various species. Some humans, walking in a pack, asari, still managing to look regal even as they were prodded along by guards; Krogan, marched with one guard each, and even a few drell and salarians stood out in the crowd.

Song and her little bunch fell into step with the flow of those already in the corridor, allowing themselves to almost being carried along. Song could see out the windows which lined one side of the hallway. They were on an outer ring of the station and she took in the blackness of space, pocked with pinpoint stars and the flashes of passing ships. She had seen footage of the Transmisphere at her old home. Three outer rings which haloed the main, cylindrical center. An orb which housed the 'area' and broadcasting area. She wasn't certain exactly how large the station was. The screen she had spotted had given her no indication. In this hallway alone she felt smaller than she ever had. Everyone moved around her as though she were invisible.

They were herded onward into a massive and extremely noisy room. Song smelled food and her stomach flipped rebelliously. She was jostled as the slaves around her picked up their pace, obviously as eager as she was to enjoy a meal. At the near end of the room, whose walls were painted a dull tan, stood the food stations serving up meals for each species. Images of the various races stood above each station to indicate which was which. Song knew that turians needed drastically different diets from humans, for example. She didn't like to think about what the krogan ate, but she saw one walk by with a tray topped with what looked to be a bare hunk of raw meat.

The rest of the room was taken up with long metal tables flanked with benches. Slaves who had food were already taking positions at various the tables. They seemed to group together based on species and Song wondered if she would be expected to sit with the other humans. They looked a rowdy and boisterous bunch, mostly male, with a few tough looking women interspersed within. They moved together like a school of fish, never far from one another. Just looking at them made Song uncomfortable.

The turians kept together as well, but their groups were much more akin to formations. Asari and Krogan hove through the crowd separately, but clumped together with their own kind to eat. The krogan table was loud and watched over by several guards who did not only carry batons, but sidearms as well. They watched the krogans with deep distrust.

“Move along,” a guard said, shoving Song's shoulder. She did as she was bidden, shuffling her feet down the line. A tray was plopped into her hands and she followed the flow of humans to her meal station. She was given a square of something that she suspected was a fiber supplement, as well as well as a thick, grey protein paste she recognized. Beside it was placed a colorful fruit jelly. Then Song was moved along.

She stood, feeling utterly alone in the fullest room she had ever been in. People bumped past her, nearly jostling the food from her grip. Each unexpected touch was like someone had jabbed her with a stun stick. She flinched away and desperately searched the room for safe haven.

She had no desire to sit with the other humans. They didn't look at her in the line, shoving her out of their way as everyone else did. Naturally she could not find a place with any of the other races. Even the salarians seemed intimidating. Their group was the smallest, but its members had dark, haunted eyes and limbs crossed with scars. This was all wrong. She didn't belong here. She should have been sold to another household. She would have gladly cared for noisy muu children for the rest of her life if she could have avoided this place. Now the smell of food was making her feel queasy.

Then she spotted it. An empty table at the far end of the room. Everyone seemed to be avoiding it, which was exactly what she wanted. If everyone would just leave her alone she might be able to get her thoughts straight and perhaps swallow a few bites of food without losing them immediately. She hurried over to the table, sliding her tray to the end near the wall and tucking herself in. She felt the reassuring coolness of the wall and leaned her stubbly head against it, getting her breathing under control. Around her the place thundered with noise and she wondered how everyone managed to eat a meal here each day. Perhaps after time in the death arena this chaos seemed tame.

“Hello again.”

Song's head shot up as Five settled in on the other side of her at the table. His food was an odd clump of what looked like seaweed. At least it didn't seem to have an odor. Song straightened, looking the Five up and down. “Wouldn't you rather sit with the other salarians?” She asked.

“They took one look at me and sent me packing. A few of them even laughed. One called me 'dead meat'” Five said, his tone casual as he prodded his meal with a fork. “You don't want to sit with the humans?”

“No.” Song said firmly. “I wasn't raised around humans. I'm not used to them.”

“Hmmm.” Five sampled some of the green, stringy 'food' from his tray. He chewed thoughtfully. “No flavor at all, but I suppose that might be a kindness.”

Song lifted an eyebrow. The salarian seemed much more collected than she felt. As though he had processed the situation overnight and fully resigned himself to it. Well, she mused, because of their short lives salarians probably had to deal with things quickly. She wondered how old Five was. She suspected that he was not even as old as she. Human middle age was supposedly the end of a salarian's lifespan.

“This place is insane.” Cale slid in on Song's side of the table, looking around like a baffled child.

“What are you doing here?” Song asked, turning to face him.

“Why wouldn't I sit here?” Cale seemed genuinely confused by her reaction.

“All the other humans are over there,” she gestured to the table. The humans had their heads together, clearly discussing something important.

“Oh. I guess I didn't notice,” Cale shrugged.

Song doubted he could have failed to notice the way things were segregated, but she said nothing more. She picked up her fiber block and dipped it in her fruit paste. Together they were not completely unpleasant.

“Is this the new Yellow Team?” A voice asked.

Song looked up from her meal to see a muu in white robes standing with two surly looking guards. “What?” Cale blinked up at the strangers.

“Shut up, human!” One of the guards said, striking Cale across the face and almost smashing him into his tray.

Cale looked fit to leap up and fly at the guard but Song grabbed his sleeve and tugged firmly. He met her eyes and she fixed him with a steady look. He settled, prodding the inside of his mouth with his tongue, checking for loosened teeth.

The other guard looked over the three slaves with an amused eye. “It would seem so.” she answered the muu.

Song was confused. Yellow Team? She knew Yellow Team had been the one to be defeated the day she had watched the program back at home. She had suspected Yellow Team to be the weakest. The whipping boy of all the other teams. What did the muu mean, 'were they the new Yellow?' Then her heart plummeted. She had not noticed it before, but above every table, high on the wall, were plaques. Each plaque depicted a creature painted in the color of what Song now knew represented the various teams.

There was a red plaque above the krogan table, blue with the asari, green over the turians, black for the humans, and grey for the salarians. What few drell there were did not seem to have their own plaque, but instead were the only species interspersed amongst the rest. Most teams had at least one.

Song cautiously tilted her head up and saw the plaque above their table. It depicted an alien animal rendered in yellow. It wore what appeared to be a shell of some kind, as well as four stubby limbs with sharp claws. The creature was rolled onto its back, limbs sticking up in the air. It looked pathetic and Song felt her stomach drop, the food inside turned to lead. Her mouth went completely dry.

“Well,” the muu was smiling; at least Song could tell he was, as muu facial expressions could be hard to read. “Let us hope you do better than the previous Yellow Team.” He walked away, flanked by his guards who parted any remaining crowd away from him as though they might sully him by breathing too near. Song wondered if that muu was one of the game officials.

“What does this mean?” Asked Five in a low voice, looking across at Song.

Irritation prickled in her chest. “How the hell should I know?”

“You know more than the two of us,” Cale pointed out, taking a small bite of his protein mush and wrinkling his nose.

“Well, I don't know about this,” Song folded her arms, unable to manage another bite. She didn't even want to look at the food.

“By sitting here we've declared ourselves members of some team, I suspect,” Five clarified, following Song's gaze up to their unimpressive mascot.

“Can we change it?” Asked Cale, looking around, taking his first interest in the human table.

Song thought of getting up and rushing over to the humans to beg to be let in. All of the other teams had so many members. How were she and these two supposed to survive for more than two minutes against them? As much as she longed to run she was frozen, her mind locking itself down tight. She was a frightened prey animal, perfectly still so as not to attract a predator.

“Well...” Five said, “seeing as we seem to be one team now perhaps we should discuss our skills.”

“Skills?” Song scoffed. “Well, I know how to entertain rowdy children.” Her tone dripped with bitterness.

Five blinked at her a few times, then moved on to Cale. The other human was still sitting with them, much to Song's surprise. He considered Five for a moment before speaking. “I can use a variety of firearms and I can fly just about anything I get my hands on.”

“There are no space ships in the arenas,” Song cut in. Of course, she had no way to be sure of this. She had not seen enough of The Game to know, but she didn't care. She ground her teeth again, picking at a spot with her tongue where a bit of grit from her meal had gotten lodged between two molars. She watched Cale distrustfully out of the corner of her eye. Had he been trapped by indecision as well? Was that why he was still sitting with them instead of cozying up to the Green Team?

“I can do a little hand to hand,” Cale went on. He looked down, “not well, but I can do it.”

Five chuckled faintly. They were all three remembering Cale's failed attempts to fight back against his guards. Five cleared his throat and Song looked up through her lashes. “I might have a few talents that could come in handy.”

Song thought of cutting in with a remark about the skinny, physically unimpressive specimen that was Five, but she kept her mouth clamped. Instead she watched as the salarian extended a hand over his tray. Song's eyes slowly widened as a sparkling blue energy formed a bubble around Five's fork, floating it into the air to hover before him.

“Y-you're biotic?” Song stammered.

“Yes,” Five gingerly lowered the fork back down. “Its extremely rare in salarians and I don't broadcast it. None of my slavers knew I could do it at all.”

“Hell,” said Cale, eyes gleaming, “Why not use that to escape?”

Five looked at him confusedly. “My skill is very precise, but not powerful. Any of the asari over there could float an entire krogan in the air, but they would have trouble with something like a fork. I can do the small, skillful stuff. Not as good for escaping.”

“I beg to differ!” Cale eyed Five as though he questioned the salarian's sanity. “You could pull a weapon from a sheath or snatch the remote for our cuffs right out of someone's hand!” He raised his wrist, waggling the metallic cuff for emphasis.

“So I grab the weapon from one of my guards, then what?” Five raised his hand again and blue energy coiled around Cale's tray, lifting it a few inches then letting it fall, splattering the human's shirt with grey protein paste.

“You give it to me,” Cale said, swatting at the front of his shirt.

“Then you can both be disabled by the other guards,” smirked Song, watching with one eyebrow raised, allowing herself to be more expressive.

“You're insane, human,” Five shook his head at Cale, “If I can have your attention back from all your crazy schemes for a moment, I wanted to show you this.” The salarian rested his elbow on the table, arm straight up. A look of concentration came over his features. Cale and Song gaped as his hand completely vanished before their eyes, his arm ending at the wrist. There was only the faintest tingle in the air, like static electricity.

“Damn,” Song exhaled, impressed. She knew she was doing nothing to hide her surprise, but she had never seen anyone make their hand disappear before. She instinctively reached out to where his hand should be and her fingers contacted with his skin.

Five chuckled, “yes, my hand is still there, you just can't see it.”

Cale was leaning forward, his own expression wild and eager. “How much of yourself can you hide like that?”

Five frowned. The biotic energy crackled in the air and his arm vanished down to his elbow on the table. He set his mouth in a tight line, fixing a stern glare at Cale, “It takes a great deal of concentration and energy, but I can make myself completely invisible for a short time.”

“What?!” Cale gasped, bouncing to his feet. Several guards looked in their direction.

Song reached over and grabbed Cale's muscular arm, yanking him back into his seat. He looked at her with disbelief written on his features. “Do you realize what this means? We know someone who can make themselves invisible! Invisible!”

“Please, say it louder, I don't think the krogan team heard you,” hissed Song, gritting her teeth.

“Can you please keep yourself under control?” Asked Five, his hand reappearing. “I'm already regretting showing you. All I will be using my abilities for is survival at this point. If Song is correct and we get sent into an arena, I won't be escaping anything. I never let my slave handlers know I had any abilities at all, I'm not about to start flaunting it now.”

Cale looked fit to argue, but Song dug her nails into his bare forearm. “Ow! Hey! You are an angry little thing aren't you?”

Song had never considered herself to be angry, or a 'little thing' for that matter. She felt a stab of temper rip towards the surface of her carefully calculated mask, but she kept it down. Instead her let her face settle back into the dull expression she had perfected.

“Team Yellow, what is going on over there?” One of the guards was still looking at them.

Song let Cale's arm go and settled back into her spot, the very image of someone who had been innocently enjoying their meal. Five too managed to look deeply uninteresting. Cale, on the other hand, glowered at his food.

The turian guard strode over, hand resting casually on his shock baton. “Are you going to be a problem for me, Yellow? Because I deal with krogans on a regular basis so a human like you isn't going to be trouble. You've got so many soft bits.” The turian spread his mandibles in what Song knew was a cruel smile.

Cale looked ready to answer and Song began weighing her options for when he did. On the one hand she could pretend she had nothing to do with the idiot man beside her and try to eat a little more of her food before it was all over. On the other hand she was sitting at this table with him, which apparently made them teammates, whatever that meant for their exceptionally limited futures. It probably wouldn't be much use to have Cale enter the arena freshly injured from a guard beating. Just as she prepared to reach for his arm again there was a sound so loud it rattled their food trays. The exploding BZZZZZT of a static muddled buzzer blared through speakers in each corner of the room.

Song turned her head, as the sound made her ears sting, watching the other teams. Each had stood up beside their tables, forming straight lines along either side. “Red, your favored today, so Green, you're in first.” A muu was stalking down the center isle between the tables. Song knew this one to be a female, and she was directing each team in turn. Green dog-trotted out of the room in two lines when called upon, heading out through a wide door at the far end of the dining hall, near the Yellow table.

Song swallowed as the asari team jogged by, then the salrians, some of whom shot glances towards the three at Yellow table as though they were already looking at corpses in triplicate.

The guard who had been talking to Cale looked expectantly at them. “Well, Yellow, let's go.” He took out his baton and waved them on with it.

Song stood up, bizarrely struck by the notion that she should tidy away her tray before leaving. She was about to die, and she knew it, but her training was still deeply ingrained. She touched the table with her fingertips as she stood, as though her hand were trying to remember what something solid and real felt like before she was tossed into hell. She followed Cale, Five taking the lead.

On the other side of the big doors was another corridor, this one wide and curving. The walls were lined with lockers and shelves. Slaves in white were helping the teams prepare as guards looked on. Red Team brought up the rear, taking up a great deal of room behind Song and her three comrades. Her chest was almost unbearably tight, just when she thought it couldn't get any more tense. Some part of her had been hoping that there were more members of Yellow Team just hiding out someplace. Perhaps they just hadn't wanted breakfast? Now it was all too obvious that only she and her two compnanions were all there was.

A human slave came up to them carrying metal arm bands with a thick line of florescent yellow glowing faintly on them. Even Cale did not bother making a fuss as the band was snapped to his bicep. It adjusted automatically to fit. The slave snapped armbands on Song and Five. Then the young man held out three clear tubes filled with what appeared to be blue goop of some kind. When no one took them he rolled his eyes. “This is medigel. You each get one per arena day. I suggest you take them.”

Song reached out automatically, as though she had been given an order by a master. The slave watched her as she considered the canister. “To apply it topically you simply take the canister on both hands... or one hand and your mouth if one of your limbs is incapacitated-” Song grimaced, but the slave pressed on. “-and snap the canister open. To inject the gel, twist the metal ring around the canister and the needle will pop out of the end.” He demonstrated with a separate canister.

“Can we keep these after the fight?” asked Cale, selecting his own medigel.

The slave gave Cale a look which spoke of how deeply he doubted anyone on Yellow Team would make it out alive. “You return any unused medigel here at the end of each competition, but they will be cataloged for your use the next time you come in, so you may accumulate them for your team's use in the arena.”

“Great,” Cale tossed his little canister in the air and caught it. Song snorted at his cavalier attitude and tucked hers neatly into one of the belts around her ribs. There seemed to be little pockets all along them that were meant to hold the medigel.

“Why do some of them get weapons?” Cale asked, standing taller to look around at the other teams. Some where being handed a startling array of blades or clubs.

“They earned them,” the slave answered tersely before walking on to help prepare Red team.

Cale looked at Five and Song. “Do you suppose this is it?” He asked, his eyes a bit more wide, a great deal of their previous fight gone out of them.

“No, Cale, this is a walk on a sunny field. We're going to be given treats and allowed to enjoy the day.” Five snapped.

Song felt a smile twitch her lips as she shot a glance at the salarian. A pity they were all about to die. She was finding that she liked him. She looked at Cale, whose wide, muscular shoulders had slumped dejectedly. He might be a bit of an idiot, but he didn't deserve to die out there any more than she or Five did. She took in a big, shaking breath as a door at the other end of the corridor opened and teams began to march through. “You never know,” she said, her voice almost too quiet. “We might survive.”

~~~~~~~~

Time for some sketches!

Concept art for the muu.

 

Song in the slave transport hold.

Five in the slave transport hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe. Maybe you won't die... but things aren't looking good.
> 
> Also, pay attention to where you sit because you might just end up in the wrong place. ;)
> 
> If you're enjoying this story thus far, give me a shout. The more people I know are reading, the more likely I am to continue!


	3. At the Point of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get real and people die.

Chapter 3  
At the Point of Death

The slaves, now suited up in whatever gear they had 'earned', were marched on down the wide, curving hallway towards what Song could only assume was the arena, and her waiting dismemberment. She glanced from side to side at the lockers they passed, wondering if she could grab a breastplate from a suit of body armor, or maybe a sword. From what she understood the players were seldom given projectile weapons, as this was considered unfair. Song knew that in reality projectiles just made fights less interesting to watch. She did spot one of the turians wearing a bow slung over his shoulder, but that was it. She had no idea how to use a bow herself, but her old family had displayed several archaic weapons throughout their house as decoration.

“Five, if you go invisible right now you could make a break for it,” Cale was whispering to the salarian.

“There are guards everywhere,” Five hissed back. Still, he shot furtive looks at each guard, weighing the option.

Song was beginning to feel a sense of numbness take her over. This was going to be it. Years of faithful service and her family has sold her to be slaughtered for their entertainment. She gritted her teeth wondering what price they had gotten for her. Would they be watching the match? Would the little girl she had had raise cheer her on to brutal beheading?

Song hadn't realized that the hallway was dimly lit until they stepped out into the 'arena'. She knew in her head that the lush landscape before her, complete with grass, trees, and even a river cutting through it, were just a hologram. Still, when a breeze touched her cheek she felt the numbness lift a fraction before her heart plummeted like a stone back to rest somewhere near her boots. She hesitated, but a guard shoved her with the dull end of his baton. “Yellow, you start over there. Follow Ric.”

Ric was another human guard who beckoned them along with a bored jerk of his head.

Song and her two companions did as they were bid. She could hear Cale swearing quietly to himself as they walked across what felt like moss and through a small stream that felt surprisingly real. Song had never been in a holographic environment this complex before, but she had used smaller versions to entertain her young charge back home. The little girl had loved to go outdoors, but when the weather was poor, which, on the muu home world, often meant hurricanes, the two would retreat to a tiny room with a somewhat outdated 'day in the park' program.

The one who was the most amazed at it all was Five. He touched a tree, eyes wide and confused. Song guessed that he had spent his life on ships so the outdoors, even a false one, was astounding to him. He tripped repeatedly on the uneven terrain as he failed to look where he was going, and Cale had to prevent him from falling over once.

“Here.” Ric stopped in a shady grove, pointing at a spot on the ground with his baton.

Song approached. Sticking out of the moss were several round, metal plates. Perhaps twelve in total that she could see. Each plate had a glowing ring of yellow around its edge.

“Step on.” Ric instructed. He was chewing gum and looked completely disinterested in what was going on, even though he was leading three people to their deaths. “The parameters of this game will be announced. Step off the ring before the game starts and that's a penalty.”

“What does a penalty do?” asked Cale, tapping one of the metal plates with his foot before stepping gingerly on.

Ric heaved an dramatic sigh. “For most people it means a weapon or piece of armor gets taken away, or a key player is removed from the match. For you-” he tapped his baton against his open hand meaningfully.

Song stepped onto one of the plates. The yellow lights glowed more brightly, as did the ones on her Yellow Team arm band. She tried to swallow, but it felt like she had just downed a cup of glass shards. Her heart was thundering an no amount to trying to steady her breathing could calm it. She wasn't certain she could even get her stoic mask to slip back into place. She knew she looked as panicked as her companions and for once she didn't care. They'd all be dead soon anyway, though her rebellious thoughts still sparked with wild escape ideas. She could make a break for it now. There was only one guard. Just run. Run where? There was one door to the arena and it was swarming with people. She could hide, but the game would not begin until they had ferreted her out. Maybe they'd even send the enemy teams to do it, and if it came to that she knew she was dead the moment someone discovered her. 

She shot a glance towards Cale, the most likely one to bolt. He seemed to understand how utterly foolish it would be to do so now. Even Five's invisibility couldn't save the salarian because eventually he would grow too tired to keep it up. Anyway, Five looked lost to the world and he stood, stiff, on his little platform. All of this must be doubly terrifying to someone who had never even seen a tree before. 

Ric stood back, clasping his hands in front of himself, baton still ready. Distantly Song heard movement through the trees and she guessed this must be another team being moved into position. She wondered which it was.

“Blue,” said Ric as though he had read her thoughts.

Asari, she mused. Probably not interested in killing Yellow Team right away... Could she and her three friend manage to hide for the entire game and come out unscathed after all? This twisted, frustrating hope kept rearing its head and she wished it would stop. Every time she thought she had managed to resign herself to this fate, the hope was back, sending insane plans through her thoughts and urging her to try something, anything, to survive.

A loud crackling sound snapped Song from her revery and a voice boomed in over a loudspeaker lodged somewhere in the false sky. Song tilted her head back to listen, scanning the holographic clouds that scudded lazily over lush trees.

“Today's game is: Ring Capture!” The sky-voice informed them. “I'll explain the game for the folks watching at home. This is an objective based game where the winning team must be the one that finds and secures the golden ring! They must return it to their base camp in order to be victorious.”

“Base camp,” Ric mouthed, gesturing to the metal plates on which Song and her companions stood.

The big voice went on. “There will be ten points awarded per player kill. Fifteen for non-lethal incapacitation. The winning team will receive twenty points per player.” There was a popping sound and the voice fell silent. Now the only thing Song could hear was the synthesized wind through the trees and the slightly metallic twitter of recorded birdsong.

Above them, in the sky where Song guessed the middle of the domed ceiling must be, a red light appeared, accompanied by an abrupt 'bonging' sound. “Good luck,” said Ric, turning walk away as calmly as ever. “Remember now, don't step off those platforms until the match starts.” The guard picked up his pace to an easy jog and he took out through the trees, no doubt heading for the exit.

Song looked to her companions. Five was shaking visibly and his rust colored skin was going grey. His eyes were huge, wider than Song had ever seen, and he didn't seem to register anything around him. Cale looked marginally calmer, though he too was pale. He was standing tensed, as though the moment he was released into the arena he planned to make a break for it. For somewhere. Song wondered if she should brace to run as well. Weren't going to stick together? Maybe it was safer to split up. It would be more difficult to track them all down for an easy ten points.

BONG! The light in the sky turned yellow.

Song scanned the area, really seeing it for the first time. They had been placed in a more closely wooded spot than where they had entered the arena. Song could not see any hint of another team through the trees and underbrush. Whoever had designed this map program had done a good job. It looked just like the thick, lush forests on the muu home world. Song guessed that every arena would be different, though she would probably never survive to find out for certain. She quickly scanned the underbrush, but saw no sign of wildlife, fake or otherwise. Back home there had only been the occasional snake to look out for anyway.

“Do we have a plan?” asked Cale, his voice tight and almost painful sounding. Song wondered if he too was feeling like someone had forced his mouth open and poured hot lead down his throat.

Song's lips parted, as though she was going to speak. Before words could decided whether or not they wanted to be free of her, the 'BONG' sounded again and the light in the sky turned green, then vanished.

“Was that... are we supposed to-?” Cale tensed, uncertain, balancing forward on the balls of his feet.

“I think so.” said Song, but she remained standing where she was. Perhaps if she never felt her platform she would not have to participate.

Cale hesitated, eying the turf around himself as though it might be acid rather than plant life. He lifted one foot from his platform and hovered it just above the grass. Then, very slowly, he settled it on the ground. There was nothing but trees rustling and the sound of unconvincing birds. “I think we're alright.”

Song gingerly placed one of her own feet on the ground, almost hoping that a guard would appear. That would mean the battle had not begun. Shouting in the distance got her attention and her head snapped up. She planted her foot firmly on the ground, no longer cautious, but ready to bolt. “We need to... we should go.” she managed to choke out as her heart turned into a bird, fluttering around in her chest trying to break free. She thought she might vomit.

“Right,” said Cale. He surged off of his platform. Darting for the thicker trees, clearly intent on hiding out. He stopped as he realized that no one was following him. “What?” He snapped.

“I-” Song wasn't certain what held her. Fear, confusion, her stubborn desire to imagine none of this was happening?

“We can't stay here!” Cale called, hunching low and scanning his surroundings like a suspicious prey animal. “The other teams might know where everyone's bases are and with Blue is so near us we'll probably be picked off as easy targets. Let's go!”

Song finally managed to snap her body into action. With a firm shake of her head, certain she heard useless brain matter rattling around in there, she jogged towards Cale. On her way she grabbed the still catatonic Five's hand and dragged him along.

As the group ran for cover she shot a glance over her shoulder and her eyes went wide. Blue team, the asari team, was jogging past not twenty yards away, sending scouts to check Yellow's starting place with quick, practiced glances. Song yanked Five behind a tree, then dropped to her knees behind another, glad that her salarian friend was tall and slim.

“Nothing here,” said one of the asari who had broken from the pack and stood over the metal plates on the ground. “But I don't think they got far. It'll be good points if we want to stop and pick them off.”

Song felt her throat close up completely. She wasn't certain she was breathing anymore, but her heart was pounding so fast her chest felt ready to crack open. She hunkered lower, muscles tensed to run, though she guessed it would be futile. These people were fit, armed, biotic, and used to The Game.

“Nara, come on!” One of the other asari called, waving the one called 'Nara' on. “Red team will find at the ring!”

“Right,” Nara said, trotting lightly over to join the others as they moved off through the trees.

Song watched the retreating backs of the asari, whose bright, azure skin stood out against the foliage. She squinted at them, curious. None of them bothered to hide their coloration or their movements. Perhaps stealth wasn't favored in the games. This gave her an idea.

Once Song was certain the asari team was well on its way she slouched back against her tree, finally gulping in big, greedy breaths. Her heart juttered to a more reasonable pace and she wiped sweat from her face with a shaking hand. She looked at her companions. Cale was laying on his belly, peering out from behind a rock. Five was where she had left him, motionless and catatonic behind his tree. “I think...” Song began, taking a few more moments to breath before being able to force more words out, “I think we need to find a way to hide ourselves. The other teams will be focused on each other and the goal, if we keep our heads down we might just live through this.”

Cale looked at her intensely for a moment, then a thin smile lifted his lips. “You can be optimistic. I knew it!”

Song glowered at him, then artfully settled her face back into its neutral expression. It came more easily than she expected after the last few moments of panic.

“How do you do that with your face?” Cale asked trying to imitate, letting his eyes go distant. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he attempted to settle his mouth into a line.

“Practice,” said Song, using her most level, unfeeling tone.

“Eery,” Cale mumbled, his own expression returning to a fiercely determined one. “Anyway, I like your idea. As much as I want to fight my way out of here, I can see as well as you that if we don't do something reasonable we're all going to die, and quick.”

“Right. I saw a river as we were being walked to our starting spot. Where there's a river there's mud.” She looked down at herself. The bright white t-shirt was doing her no favors. Neither was Cale's pale skin.

“Are you sure we want to go that far into danger? What if we just hide out right here and wait for it all to be over?” asked Cale, though he had already gotten to his feet.

Song faltered. Cale was looking at her expectantly, as if she had somehow been elected leader without her say. Her mouth tasted like bile. “You might be right, but I don't know how close we are to the other teams. We saw the asari, but for all we know another of the teams might come up right behind us on their way to that ring thingy they're supposed to find.”

“You're right, we can't risk staying,” Cale said, striding up to stand beside Song. “So... what about him?” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of Five.

Song moved to Five's side and raised a hand, snapping her fingers in his face. He blinked automatically, but looked no less locked inside his own head. His mouth hung slack and he stared right through Song as though she wasn't there. “Five? Five, come on! We need the whole team working on this. Come on!” she risked clapping her hands once.

“Whole team?” asked Cale, folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“They put these bands around our arms, they made us a team, we might as well use it,” Song said even though the thought made her skin itch like she wanted to crawl out of her own body and slip away.

Cale watched her with that intense way he had that made her want to smack him. She kept her features and movements muted, knowing he couldn't read her. His thick brows came together, forming a little crease between them as studied. “Maybe we should split up. Maybe they're expecting us to act as a team so we shouldn't.”

“Do you want to split up?” Song took one of Five's long fingered hands and rubbed it vigorously between hers. She wasn't certain why, it just seemed like something to do.

“No.”

“Then we won't. At my old home we slaves always stuck together. The masters were kind, but we knew they were not our friends. Your only true ally was the slave who worked beside you.”

“That's... more touching than I expected from you.” Cale joined her on Five's other side. “I'm sorry, buddy,” he said, before bringing a fist back and smashing it into Five's bony shoulder.

The salarian, all long limbs and awkwardness, nearly toppled onto Song, who caught him as best she could. Five blinked, his eyes finally taking in the world around him again. He looked at Song, pushing himself from her grip. “What? Ow! Where?”

“Shh!” Song snapped, touching a fingertip to his lips.

They all stood still for a moment, listening for any sign of other teams. No new sounds met their ears. Song and Cale gave Five a few moments to collect himself as they gave him an overview of their simple plan. When the salarian had to argument, they lit out for the river they had seen.

Five was both enthralled and intimidated by the landscape. He asked about the trees, the grass, every plant that seemed to stand out while flinching away from them as though they might have flangs.

“I recognize most of these,” whispered Song to the salarian. Their walk had thus far been quiet, with no sign of any of the other teams. Only a very distant sound of shouting or fighting could be heard, carried on the wind, which Song suspected was created by fans in the holo-dome. “A few of the plants must come from alien home-worlds, or perhaps from planets the muu have visited. They're not much for colonization, though. They'd rather stay on their home world, or create space stations to live on. They like to be in control of their environments.”

“So they don't handle surprises well?” Cale asked, trying his best to walk quietly, but in reality snapping more twigs and shoving aside more branches than the inexperienced Five.

“Sometimes,” Song said, pausing to listen again for the sound of running water. She thought she could hear it now, and changed their route accordingly, the other two following her. She hoped she wasn't leading them straight into a waiting ambush. For all she knew the humans or salarians did conceal themselves and might be hiding out in the trees, ready to drop down on unwary victims.

There, she definitely heard water! She and her companions broke out of the underbrush to the mossy bank of the river. She wasn't certain how holographic mud worked, but she reasoned that if she could hide behind a tree, she could conceal her shirt with mud.

All three knelt on the bank, grabbing up greedy handfuls of the rich muck. It struck Song that this stuff didn't have a smell. It was disconcerting to handle the odorless mud and moss. A decided wrongness to it all.

Once Song's shirt, pants, and some of her skin for contrast, were well coated, she retreated from the bank back into the weedy cover of the woods. The three had avoided all open areas on their way, careful to keep themselves to the tall shrubbery and concealing trees. Five followed behind her, also sufficiently doused in grime. Only his yellow armband stood out. Song looked down to see that the mud had refused to stick to her own armband, and the yellow light that designated her team shone as keenly as ever. She wondered if it would glow brighter if she tried to put a strip of cloth over it, or wrap a long leaf around it. She guessed this was to keep people from disguising the team they were on, for the fairness of the Game. As if it mattered, since it seemed the teams were separated by species.

“Hurry up, Cale,” Song whispered between gritted teeth, too quietly for the other human to hear.

The man was taking longer than his companioans, having to not only cover his shirt, but his skin as well. More than any of them he stood out like a beacon against the green landscape. As Song watched, movement on the other side of the river caught her eye. Her breath hitched as he realized too late what it was. A turian, tall and lean for one of his kind, slipped from the cover at the river's other side. His green armband showed brightly and he wore a mismatch of body-armor. Worst of all, in his hands he gripped a bow. The one Song had seen when they had all been suiting up before entering the arena.

Song felt Five's hand close on her shoulder, squeezing as they watched the turian, who clearly saw Cale, though the pilot did not seem to have noticed him.

Five's long fingers closed around her shoulder. At first Song thought the salarian was holding her back from doing something stupid, but then she felt a static tingled across her skin. She looked down. Half of her body was gone. She gave a little squeak and Five dug his fingers into the muscles of her shoulder to urge silence.

Cale had noticed the turian now. His muscles went noticeably tense as he crouched on the riverbank, hands balling around fistfuls of mud. The turian drew back his bow, but hesitated before furing. Why hadn't he shot, Song wondered, trying not to look down at what remained of her body. Five had almost all of her vanished from sight, and part of himself. His arm up to the shoulder was gone, and the invisibility was creeping up his neck to his face. She could hear his tense, rasping breathing in her ear.

The turian watched Cale for a moment, blinking small eyes, mandibles spread. Fear? Song knew a decent amount of turian body language and this looked a whole lot like nervousness or downright fear. What was this turian unsure of? He kept shooting glances up and down the river. He must have known the rest of Yellow Team was hiding, but he too must recall that Yellow only had three inept members and no weapons. Unless he believed that Song and her companions were more powerful than they appeared.

The turian shifted from foot to shoot, bow still drawn, a deeply unhappy expression on his face. Song noted that this stranger seemed young and was not particularly well formed, by turian standards. His leg spurs were quite long, almost too the point of being awkward. They forced his movents to be less graceful. His fringe, too, was longer than was usually seen on a turian of his seeming age. Song shook her head, which she knew must also be invisible by now. This attacker was giving her time to come up with a plan and instead she was wasting time making judgments about his appearance. Maybe if they charged the bank, all three of them, they could scare him off. By his nervous movements Song felt reasonably certain of her hunch that he was alone. She and Five would make for quite a terrifying sight, both of them partially visible, just floating limbs in midair. She leaned into Five, feeling him beside her rather than seeing him. “Can you move and do this?”

“No,” Five hissed back, his voice full of strain.

“Can we try anyway?”

Before Song could hear Five's answer Cale seemed to have decided that he was on his own because he stood up, arms raised. “Hey, look, I don't want to cause you any trouble. Why don't we both go our way and forget we ever saw one another?”

“I...” the turian spoke haltingly. “I can't. I'm not supposed to...to leave any of you alive. If I see someone on another team and I can take the shot I have-have to. For the points.”

“Naw, hey, I understand, but I'm sure your teammates just meant you're supposed to shoot armed and dangerous enemies. Not harmless ones like me.”

“It's the same points,” said the turian, more firmly than before. He raised his bow.

“No!” gasped Song, lurching out of the bushes, breaking free of Five's grasp and becoming immediately visible.

The turian's eye flicked up to her for the fraction of a second, then the arrow loosed, striking home with a solid 'thunk' on Cale's side. Cale yelled in pain and collapsed. Song hit the dirt, throwing herself to the riverbank, ready to feel an arrow impale her as well. She rolled, looking up at the turian, fixing him with one of her most unnerving stares which was the only weapon she had. He met her eyes. She expected him to nock another arrow immediately, but instead he watched her with a sorrowful expression. “I'm sorry,” he said.

As the turian finally reached for another arrow, his eyes still locked on Song's, a whistle rang through the trees. It was definitely not part of the canned birdsong that looped periodically. The turian looked relieved, slipped the arrow back into his quiver, and ran off up the riverbank.

“Five! Help me!” Song called, getting to her hands and knees and scrambling over to Cale. The man was curled around the arrow which still protruded from his side, dangerously close to piercing his intestines.

The salarian hurried out of the trees and squatted beside Cale as well. He looked at Song with frightened eyes, which stood out darkly from his muddy face.

“We have to get him back to cover,” Song said, her mind already racing. Was this it? Had they already lost one of their team members? She might have died as well if that Green Team turian had been more cold blooded. Then she recalled that a wound was worth more points today and wondered how many arrows could pierce her body before she finally died. Shuddering she bent her head low over Cale. “Come on, we need to go. We're not safe here.”

Cale's pale eyes opened for a second and met hers. Then, slowly, painfully, he uncurled and tried to stand. He gave a cry and fell to the side as his leg gave out under him.

“Can you crawl?” asked Five, raising his head to scan for more members of Green Team. Song knew that they could be swarming the area in moments, as soon as their ally got back to them with news that he had found Yellow.

Cale crawled. It was slow, it was obviously painful, and Song could not help but notice the drops of blood he left behind. She tried her best to kick mud over them as she helped the other human to struggle along.

Finally, in the cover of the underbrush, Song rolled Cale into his side, hand to her chin as she examined the wound. “It doesn't look too deep.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cale ground out between gritted teeth.

“What do we do?” asked Five, who was looking pale himself and Song was worried he was going to shut down again and she'd have two problems to deal with.

“We have medigel,” she reminded them both, reaching for her canister and pulling it free. “So, I think we just need to pull out the arrow and inject him with this.”

“Oh is that all?” Cale asked. His breathing was getting shallow and Song remembered hearing something about 'shock' when one of her fellow slaves had been seriously hurt in an accident back home. She didn't know what shock was, but she assumed it was bad.

“That's all,” she answered Cale using the firm, confident voice she had practiced to calm her young mistress whenever the little girl had decided some inconvenience warranted a tantrum.

“I can't watch,” Five, who was sitting on Cale's other side, turned around, covering his face for good measure.

Song still met Cale's eyes firmly. “Seems to be just the two of us. Are you ready?”

“Fuck no. Do it anyway,” Cale choked.

Song nodded, sweat beading on her forehead. She lifted the little canister of medigel and turned the metal ring in the center as she had been instructed. A needled popped out of one end. She turned back to the man on the ground, setting the gel aside for a moment so she could brace one hand against his belly, the other gripping the shaft of the arrow. She too bared her teeth, letting her calm mask slip away as she braced, then yanked.

If they had been thinking, Song realized, they might have given Cale something to bite on because when she jerked the arrow free he screamed. She'd never heard a scream quite like it. It rattled her to her core and sent her nerves peaking again. She wiped her forehead with her wrist, trying to still a writhing Cale who was splattering blood onto her pants. She dropped the arrow and snatched up the medigel, moments before Cale might have rolled onto it. He was still yelling, but she ignored this in favor of haste, gripping his shoulder to hold him as best she could and jabbed the needle into his side near the wound. He yelled again, hoarse and horrible, and she wished that Five would stop huddling off to the side and do something helpful.

The medigel drained from the container on its own and Song pulled it free when it was empty, tossing it away. Then she put one hand over the hole in Cale's side, feeling the warm blood against her palm, and the other over his mouth, pressing down firmly with both. There was a good deal of thrashing, muffled yells from under her hand and Song trying to look around to see if anyone was coming, before Cale finally settled.

She slid her hand cautiously from his lips, staring down into his eyes which, thankfully, where clear. Song wiped his spit on her pant leg beside his blood, letting her calm expression slip back into place as she checked the hand over his wound. Her palm was smeared thickly with red, but the arrow hole had sealed itself. There was only a puckered scar with bluish veins snaking away from it.

“You can turn around, Five,” Song instructed coolly.

The salarian checked over his shoulder, then maneuvered himself back to face them, shame evident on his features. “I... I don't like blood.”

“Good thing you were picked to venture into an arena filled with it then,” Cale sighed, rubbing the spot where the arrow wound had been and sitting up gingerly.

“How does it feel?” asked Song, picking up the arrow and examining the deadly tip, still sharp as ever. The shaft was made of some kind of light weight metal, not wood, as the one on display in her master's house had been.

“It tingles,” said Cale, still massaging the spot. “And it feel jumpy, like I just had too much caffeine.”

“What's that?” Asked Song, wondering if she could make use of the single arrow.

“Never mind.” Cale got to his knees with a grimace, scanning the tree dotted landscape and the river. “Do you think we got anyone's attention?”

“Probably,” Song sighed, wiping the arrow along her leg as well, though Five looked at it queasily. “The question is, do any of them care? If that turian was going to bring Green back to mop up what was left of us he would have by now.”

“He didn't shoot you too,” Cale said, looking at Song as though he had only just realized she did not have an arrow protruding from her body.

“He would have. He hesitated for some reason. Maybe he was trying to remember human anatomy and where to shoot me to injure by not kill. Injuries are worth more this match, remember?”

“Right.” Cale tried to stand up and tipped sideways with a grunt. Song and Five both caught him, getting to their feet themselves.

“Now we're all muddy, where do we go?” asked Five.

“I don't know,” Song admitted, bringing Cale's muscular arm over her shoulder. “Look for the best hiding spot I suppose. Keep to the trees?”

The small, awkward group made their way deeper into tree cover. They hadn't made it far when they collectively flinched as a fresh voice boomed over the speakers above. “THE RING IS IN PLAY!”

“What?” Five asked.

“I don't-” Cale wasn't able to finish his thought. All three of them heard the thundering sound of a large group running in their direction. There was no mistaking it, even for Five or Song who might never have heard so many people moving before.

“Red Team!” Song caught a flash of crimson through the trees. “Get down!”

All three dove for cover, throwing themselves to their bellies behind a log. Without even realizing she was doing it Song tried to grab at the tall shrubs to pull them over herself. Seconds later Blue Team burst into the treeline. Their lead runner, who was several paces ahead of the rest, was carrying a golden ring about the size of an open hand. Her comrades were shouting her on as Red Team crashed through the underbrush, some even smashing smaller trees over as they came.

The asari runner darted past Song and her companions without so much as glancing in their direction, but the fight which began between Red and Blue was far more pressing. Blue Team wielded both weapons and biotics. The air sparked with energy as krogan were tossed into the air or pinned in place by the asari's powers.

“Get after the runner!” A huge, scarred krogan boomed, trying to encourage his teammates away from the fight. One listened, but it was clear as he started running that he would not be catching up to the swift asari.

The fight drew closer to where Song and her companions hid. They all inched backwards on their bellies, struggling to stay clear. A krogan went flying and landed a mere foot from Song. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping in alarm. Then she realized her hand wasn't there. Her entire arm was invisible. She risked taking her eyes from the battle to check the rest of herself and found that not only was she completely invisible, but so were Five and most of Cale. The last few scraps of the pilot that she could make out were vanishing rapidly. “Damn, Five,” she breathed, impressed.

The fight went on, none of the combatants guessing that the three panicked members of Yellow Team were huddled right in the middle of the mess. Finally one of the asari yelled at her comrades, “we're not getting the win! Lei must have been intercepted! We have to get to the rendezvous point!”

Blue team disengaged with enough skill for Song to be slightly impressed through her terror. Some of the asari even lifted into the air and took flying leaps using their biotics. Red Team roared and gave chase, thundering past Yellow with such force that Song felt herself bouncing with their footfalls. By the krogan shouts of victory they clearly believed their teammate had caught the asari with the ring. Song wasn't so sure as she watched them go, their huge feet stamping flat the underbrush and nearly kicking her several times.

All three lay still in the grass, barely breathing, not daring to move. Song felt as though electricity was rushing through her limbs, either from fear, or all the biotic energy in the air. After things has been quiet for several minutes Song dared to raise her head.

“Fuck. Just.... fuck,” Cale said as he slowly became visible again. His face was drained of color and drenched in sweat. Song knew she didn't look much better.

Five slumped against her and Song maneuvered herself to support him as best she could. “Five, that was amazing! How did you-” Her brows came together as she looked at her friend. His copper colored skin was ashy, his eyes closed. “Five? Dammit, FIVE?” She shook him. He sagged limply against her.

“Five?” Cale squatted beside them, eyes wide and panicky. “Is he-?”

“I don't know,” Song desperately felt his neck for a pulse and found nothing. She put her hand over his mouth and the slits that were his nostrils. No breath tickled her palm. “Oh shit. Fucking shit, I think he's dead!”

“What? No. No way! He just... he covered us! He kept us safe that whole time he can't be dead now!” Cale dragged his hand back through the stubble on his head. “You're wrong. He has to be alive. Five? Five, buddy, come on!” He struck the salarian's shoulder with a fist. No reaction.

“Cale,” Song's forced her voice to even out. It took more will than she expected. She almost couldn't bring herself to look down at Five's body in her arms. “He said that using his biotics took energy. To cover all three of us... it must have... it must-” She couldn't finish.

Cale sat down hard, his face going blank. Not in the same way that Song's often did, with careful precision. This looked like part of the man had gone, leaving his shell behind. His mouth moved as though he might be trying to speak, but for a long moment nothing came out.

Song gently lay Five down on the grass, arranging his long limbs carefully. “He didn't have to do that,” she said, low and almost inaudible. “He's only known us for a day. Why did he do that?”

“No.” said Cale, the firmness of the word startling Song.

“What?”

“No. This isn't going to happen,” Cale snarled. “Song, get his medigel.” Cale snatched his own canister from its holder and twisted the metal ring to bring forth the needle.

“Cale, no, he's dead. Medigel doesn't work on dead people.”

Cales movements were frenzied. “No. Shhht. I saw this once. Little kid fell into the magnetic field of a drive core. His brain got all scrambled and it stopped his heart, but Luke pulled him free and revived him.”

Song didn't have time to ask who Luke was. When she was too slow getting Five's medigel, Cale snatched it up and readied it as he had done with his own, then he looked back up at her. “Song, look at me, where is the salarian heart? Here?” he pointed to a spot near the middle of Five's chest.

“No, here,” she corrected, moving his hands higher. “I think-” she second guessed, struggling to remember the salarian's she had known. Had any of them ever talked about how they differed from other species? Hadn't the slaves sat around and talked about it one night after dinner? A salarian bragging how his ribs were springy and very hard to break. A turian expounding on the merits of the plates of hard, scaly skin which covered their bodies. Everyone making fun of how delicate humans were.

“Song? I need to do this now.”

“Okay, yes!” she said, uncertain what the insane pilot was planning, but too stunned to stop him.

Cale clasped his hands together and compressed the salarian's narrow chest several times, then turned and breathed into his mouth. Song sat back, baffled. Perhaps Cale had truly lost his mind. She should probably just leave. Get out of this trampled battlefield and try to live through the rest of the game alone.

After Cale had done his strange ritual three or four times he injected the first canister of medigel, muttering the whole time, “come on Five. Don't you do this shit! Come on, dammit!”

Song wanted to shout at Cale that the salarian was dead. He can't hear you. We need to go! Instead she sat, watching, transfixed. To her utter shock and amazement, Five choked, then breathed.

“Yes! Yeah, Five! Come on, you got this!” Cale cheered, grabbing the other medigel and injecting it.

Five coughed, spluttering for a moment as both humans knelt protectively over him. Song was completely nonplussed. She looked up at Cale knowing she would be unable to summon her expressionless mask now, even if she wanted to. She wanted to say something to him, to express her admiration, but no words came.

“Alright, okay, easy now!” Cale was saying to Five, gently holding the salarian's shoulders. “You're okay.”

“What?” Five's voice was a raspy whisper.

“Cale... Cale brought you back to life.” Song said, her mouth still open in astonishment.

“I did a little bit,” said Cale, grinning from ear to ear.

Five coughed and both humans crouched low over him as if to form a barrier with their own bodies should more danger present itself. They remained like that, Five laying still, not saying much as color slowly returned to his skin, Cale and Song keeping watch. Whatever the other teams were doing, they seemed to be at it in some other part of the arena.

Song was not certain how much time had passed, but there was another great sound over the loudspeaker and the game was declared over. Grey Team had won.

Their cuffs snapped together. All three let out little shouts of alarm and pain as their limbs were forced awkwardly out of position. “I suppose this is to stop any fighting that might be happening,” Cale mused as all three lay on their backs, staring up at the false sky above. The same cloud kept repeating as Song watched. She thought it might not be so bad to lay like this forever after what she had just been through. Her heart didn't seem to remember its normal rhythm.

“Well I'll be damned. You made it.”

Song raised her head, her neck protesting stiffly. Their guard from that morning, Ric, was standing over them, remote of their cuffs in his hand and the first interested expression Song had seen him wear, on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they lived... this time. Of course Five was dead for a little while there, but he got better.
> 
> What will happen to our heroes next? What will the next day in the arena hold? Will any of them recover from the trauma of the day? Find out in the next chapter!
> 
> Drop a comment if you're enjoying the story!


	4. Victory in Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song, Cale and Five have survived their first time in the arena, but other than their lives, what did they really win?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for another piece of art at the end of the chapter!

Chapter 4  
Victory in Defeat

Ric walked Yellow Team out of the arena. He allowed them to have their arms free of the shackles as well as their feet so they could support one another. Five moved slowly and painfully, twice having to stop to sag against Song or Cale. Song knew that the pilot was still sore where the arrow had struck him, but he didn't complain. Song almost felt guilty for being in the best shape of the three. She knew she had been moments away from finding an arrow protruding from her body on the riverbank, but that hardly mattered now.

Back in the wide hallway where weapons and armor were kept, all the teams were slowly being gathered. Far from the rambunctious, overconfident groups they had been, most looked weary, beat down or furious. Their wounded were brought in as well, assessed by a medic and either sent back to their team or to the medbay. The medic glanced over Song's group with a disinterested expression and waved them on. “You're fine. Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” Five's voice was raspy and meant only for his two teammates to hear. “I died! What does someone have to do to be considered 'serious'?” His snark was met with the appearance of an asari who had a knife lodged in her head just above her eye. Five shrank back, grimacing. “Well then. I guess I'm happy where I am.”

“Any weapons, armor or medigel?” Another slave came by holding out her hands to Yellow Team.

“No. We used it all,” Song reported glumly.

The woman didn't seem to believe them, or perhaps hadn't listened in the first place. She frisked each of the three in turn. Finally she plucked the arrow from the back of Song's belt, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh. I forgot I had that.” It was true. In all the chaos and death and subsequent revival of a teammate she had become distracted from her potential weapon.

“You'll get this back next time,” the slave drawled.

“Oh no, I-” Song began, but the woman had already moved on to the next team.

“How did Grey Team win?” Cale asked Ric, who was still standing with them, beginning to look bored again. He hadn't even bothered to draw his baton.

“Same way they usually do. By out smarting the other teams,” Ric answered, still coolly chewing away at some gum. Song idly wondered if it was the same gum from the beginning of the match, or if he had replaced it while she and her friends were trapped in the arena. Her mind didn't know what to do with itself now that she wasn't fighting every moment to stay alive. Ric went on, “Grey figured out that Blue had the ring and ran to their base to lay booby traps. Grey team has a lot of tech, but not much physical strength to speak of, so they usually rely on traps and out thinking their enemies.”

“Interesting,” Cale leaned forward slightly. Song saw what he was doing. Though she kept her face a passive mask of disinterest, inside she was smiling as Cale questioned their guard. “Obviously Red uses mostly brute strength. Blue relies on their biotic ability.”

“True, but never underestimate Blue,” Ric said, watching as two krogan and a human were wheeled past in stretchers. Five had to look away. Ric merely raised his eyebrows at the horrific injuries that came within arms reach of him. “Blue is crafty too. They're a real threat. They have the brains and the biotics to win, and when they're working as a team they're deadly.”

“But they don't always work as a team?” Cale cocked an eyebrow. Now he rested casually against the wall, folding his arms.

“Their leader was killed recently and there's a power vacuum,” Ric explained. He looked over at Blue Team, who did seem to be having some sort of disagreement. Several of the asari were clearly scolding the others. It might have become shouting if several guards with activated stun batons had not been standing diligently around them. “The muu tend not to favor Blue team because to them biotic power is an every-day ability, so the asari have far more to prove if they're going to stay on top.”

“What about the humans?” Cale pressed before Ric got distracted.

“Those fuckers?” Ric chuckled. Song wondered if he had forgotten that he was a human himself. “Wild cards, every damn one of 'em. They work well as a unit, but can also function separately. Only problem they have is that if you throw off the delicate balance of their team, then they play like shit. All it takes is one or two of them to fuck up, not follow orders or decide they know best, and the whole thing falls apart. Happened today. They didn't stand a chance of winning and we all knew it. Audiences love 'em though. They bring out the most drama, and viewers are into drama.”

“Green Team?” Cale asked, tilting his head towards the turians, who were having their wounded checked out. They'd also lost a team member. The first dead one that Song had seen this match.

Idly Song scanned the turian team as Ric explained what they were all about. “Turians are the most solid team. Little infighting, rigid structure and hierarchy. Even the career slaves amongst them seem to know how to fall into line, it's kinda spooky.”

As Song watched the turians stand in what she now understood was a formation, awaiting the appraisal of their injuries, she spotted the tall, skinny one with the long leg spurs. His bow and body armor had already been stripped from him and he stood in trim line with his fellows as medics moved around them. The slim turian must have felt Song's gaze because he turned his head fractionally. There was something deeply predatory about the turian people, Song mused, as one, cold eye locked with hers. She tried not to flinch. There must have been some primal instinct, some shred of recognition that flared within her as a human when she looked at Green Team. Something that shouted 'danger!' Still, the young turian who looked at her now with only one eye had a different set to his features. He didn't frown at her, mandibles tight against his jaw. Instead she saw them flare, just fractionally before he seemed to correct himself. Song kept her face blank, but her mind worked fervently wondering if she had read the turian wrong. He had already turned back, face forward and wearing his own expression of taciturn indifference as she watched, intrigued.

“So what was Yellow Team all about?” Cale was asking when Song tuned back in to their conversation.

“Yellow...” Ric sucked in air through his teeth, rocking back on his heels. “They're...odd. Always have been. Sometimes we don't even have a Yellow Team. When we do it never seems to last long, but while it exists it tends to be its own animal. Sometimes it'll be mostly one species, like the other teams, but sometimes... sometimes the people in Yellow are the ones who can't find a place anywhere else so they all clump together.” Ric's brow creased as a look of recollection spread over his features. “Of course they always get killed off in the end.”

“Why?” Cale asked, trying to keep his tone casual, but failing this time. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to conceal it.

“Smaller team usually,” Ric shrugged. “Don't work as well together as they would with their own kind? Who knows?”

Cale opened his mouth to ask a fresh question, but the guards had finished separating the wounded and taking back any weapons and armor. Ric stood straighter, drawing his baton, a grim expression settling over his amiable features. “Time to move out.”

Song and Cale threw Five's slender arms over their shoulders and supported their taller friend as they followed the path back into the dining hall. The smell of food caught Song off guard and she almost staggered. Her insides raged, rattling her ribs and begging to be fed. She fought back the instinct to leave her friends and charge the food line with almost as much will as she had used to survive the day. She and Cale were in silent agreement that Five should be seen to first, then they would find their own meals.

The mood of the dining hall was subdued. The wounded deemed fit enough to function were helped by their teammates and everyone settled in for their meal, talking in low tones, no doubt discussing the match. Song watched the Grey Team. They didn't celebrate, even though they had won. They somberly got their meals and went to their table without glancing at their surroundings.

Song and her companions ate in silence which suited Song fine. She eagerly shoveled protein paste into her mouth, ignoring the world. Five was still feeling poorly and only picked at his food. He sagged in his seat, almost asleep. Song and Cale sat on either side of him to keep him upright.

“Yellow Team. Still together, this is a surprise,” a gentle voice purred.

Song looked up to see a muu official standing with several guards. The muu scanned the three of them with interest. “Unexpected. Unexpected indeed. Of course you scored zero points, but I suppose you cannot be blamed for it at this juncture, with so few players.”

“Well maybe if you wanted teams like ours to do more than survive you should give us a few more members,” Cale said, addressing his food.

Song stuffed another heaping bite of protein paste into her mouth and kept her expression distant and uncaring, though she wished she could reach across Five and grab Cale's arm to remind the pilot to follow her lead and shut up.

The muu raised her head, which was adorned with a traditional covering to signify her importance. She smirked, though Song suspected neither Cale nor Five would be able to tell. The muu favored micro expressions of emotion unless something truly upsetting occurred. “Perhaps, but you are far more entertaining this way. Sadly, few cameras focused on you today, but keep surviving and perhaps you will be of interest.”

Cale scowled deeply, the muscles his his jaw clenching visibly. He seemed to be warring with himself and Song knew he wanted to stand up and smack this official over the head with his tray. She knew because it was what she wanted to do. Instead she dipped her spoon into her fruit jelly. The guards watched Cale with suspicion and drawn stun sticks, but the human did not do anything rash this time.

The muu seemed to have grown weary of them, moving away with a rapid clicking sound from her spider-like legs against the metal floor. Cale's face was twisted into a deadly glare at the Muu's back. “She talked like we chose any of this,” He spat.

“That's how they talk.” Song shrugged. “Even back home, they always treated the slaves as though we had somehow put ourselves in their service.”

“And you let them?”

“I didn't have much of a choice. You haven't seen the muu home world. Running away into that would be suicidal. The second the weather turns bad you're dead.” Song stabbed her protein paste for emphasis. “Now stop talking about this, you're going to get us noticed again.”

To Song's immense surprise, Cale shut up. He turned his attention back to his food and cleaned his tray, even finishing off the crumbs from his fiber bar. Then the three sat in silence, too tired to do much else, until a buzzer sounded and everyone stood up to be herded away to their quarters once more.

The guards who walked Song and company to their door seemed as impressed as Ric had been that the three were still alive. “Not bad, Yellow!” said the batarian, holding out his baton to indicate their room. It was good that he did as the hall was lined with identical white doors and Song had not bothered to memorize the location of theirs. She hadn't expected to live out the day.

“Normally we'd have to split you up so you could bunk with your new teams, but since you all ended up on Yellow, you can stay together,” The turian commented.

“Ended up on Yellow?” growled Cale in a low rumble that made the turian take out their shackle remote and threaten to push the button.

Song, who was supporting Five, tried to shoot Cale a warning look, but he wasn't paying attention. Still, he quieted, walking demurely into the room followed by Song and Five. “I'll be honest,” said the batarian guard, leaning against the door frame. “If you can pull off a few more games like that I might start putting money on you. Of course you need a few more members for you team or all you can hope for is survival.”

No one answered. Song didn't even turn to look at the guard as she settled Five to sit on his bed. Then she crossed to hers, still keeping her face emotionless, her movements small. Cale plopped down onto his bed, maintaining eye contact with whichever guard would look at him. He even managed to stare down the batarian, which was no easy feat. “Sleep well, Yellow,” said the turian, tapping his baton absently on the door frame before he and his partner slipped out and the door shut with alarming speed that might take off a hand if someone was foolish enough to try to stop it.

Song looked up at her two companions, wondering if she should say something. Five's skin was still grey and he swayed slightly where he sat. Cale was a smoldering storm waiting to break. She decided it would be better not to pester him. Before she could decide what she wanted to do the door at the other end of their quarters hissed open and three white-clad slaves stood in the hallway, towels draped over their arms. “Would any of you like to shower?”

“We all should,” Song found herself saying. She was so startled by her own voice that she sat blinking for a moment before getting to her feet with a jerk. Though the holographic mud had vanished as soon as they exited the arena, she was still covered in blood and crusted sweat. She didn't want to think about what her face looked like, but judging by Cale and Five's she imagined herself particularly horrifying.

She crossed to the door, followed by a hesitant Five and Cale. The slaves led them away to separate shower rooms. Song noticed two turian guards standing reading in case Cale tried more of his antics. He seemed too weary to struggle or fight and followed demurely where he was led.

The shower was bliss. Song watched, hypnotized, as the blood and grime sliped from her body to spiral down the drain. She had never felt so mentally exhausted, but she she turned to the slave who stood by watching passively as though Song's naked body were no different from a chair or bulkhead. “Did you see the match today?” Song asked.

“No,” The woman answered with a fractional shake of her head.

“Ah. Well... obviously we managed to survive... I was wondering though, how did you become a bath slave here while I was placed into the arena?” She kept her tone casual, coolly scrubbing soap into her stubbly hair and only glancing at the other woman.

“I don't know.” The slave shrugged. “When I was sold here this is the task they had for me.”

“I suppose you're glad every day that you didn't get my job.”

“Oh yes!” The slave answered, a little too enthusiastically. Song's chest tightened. “I don't like seeing the fighting slaves get injured or killed, but I'm glad it isn't me.” She was so unapologetic that Song almost laughed.

“I'll bet you are.” Song hesitated. “Have... have any of the arena slaves ever been promoted to your job? Or to guards?”

“I don't know,” the woman said, her eyes widening. “I don't think so. That slave or guard would be in serious danger from their old team. The team would probably try to kill them as soon as they got the chance.”

“Does that happen? Guards getting attacked and killed?”

“Sometimes...” the slave looked down, uncertain. “They're usually very careful, but sometimes they can't stop a fight, or they have too few guards watching a slave. The muu try to find the best, but sometimes someone less experienced is hired and they might be killed.”

“Hired? The guards are paid?”

“Oh, of course. No one would do the job unless they were paid.” A tiny smile slipped across the woman's face.

Song was loath to leave the stream of water, so invitingly familiar against her skin, but she decided not to linger. Her new teammates could be waiting for her back in their room already. She stepped out of the water stream and it shut off automatically. The slave darted forward with the towel and handed it to Song. “Oh! I'll get your clothes!” The woman said, realizing Song had nothing to change into. She darted out the door back towards their room and Song's little footlocker.

Song stood, towel in hand, staring at the open door. She knew that outside at least two guards were waiting, but she wasn't planning to run anyway. Not now. Still, there was the door and the blind the trust that she, a career slave, wouldn't even think of running. But she was thinking of it.

The woman returned a few moments later with Song's change of clothes, passing them over and shutting the door on them both, utterly oblivious. Song dressed in silence, though her mind sparked with a thousand thoughts like lightning bugs flashing in the dark. She set her jaw and kept her expression blank as she was led back into their quarters.

She was actually finished first of all her little team. Five came next, limping slowly to his bed he lay down on his back and stared at the ceiling with hollow eyes. Song watched him with concern, but she was distracted when Cale reentered the room. He looked considerably better after his shower. He'd even been allowed to shave and his square jaw looked quite handsome clean. He was still behaving himself and once he was back in the room he sat down on his bed, the picture of a well trained slave. As soon as the door slid shut, leaving them alone again, Song cocked an eyebrow letting her stoic mask fall away. “What's this? Done trying to escape?”

“I'm never done,” said Cale, flashing her a winning smile. One of his bottom teeth was crooked. “I'm taking a page from your book.”

“My book?” she asked, standing up and stretching, reaching up towards the ceiling and feeling her spine crack pleasantly. This was a ritual from her old life. After a long day of work she liked to relax her muscles and take some time for herself.

“Yeah,” Cale followed her motions as she stretched her arms, then her legs, working out knotted muscles and kinks. Cale did his best to mimic her as he spoke. “They hardly look at you. It's like you're just a shadow on the wall for them to pay attention to, or not.”

“Thank you?” Song said as she worked a hard knot from her shoulder, wincing.

“It's a talent you have. Really,” Cale continued enthusiastically. “You can turn your face off-”

“Turn my face off?” Song laughed. It was the first real laugh since she had left home and it felt so strange she cut it off after a few breaths.

“Yeah,” Cale was still grinning. “You do that thing where you don't show any emotion. It's creepy, but it works. If you don't look angry or scared it's like you aren't a threat any more. They stop watching you. So, I have to master that and I can get away with things too.”

“I haven't gotten away with anything,” Song said, bending to touch her toes.

Cale couldn't quite reach his toes. He grunted, then chuckled at himself. “You could.”

Song considered this for a moment. Were there times when she might have done something because no one was watching her? “Maybe you should keep behaving like an idiot,” she said. She massaged her neck expertly with her fingertips. “If you keep making a fuss then I can get away with more... whatever that might be.”

“Heeeeey,” Cale pointed at her as though about to announce she'd done something spectacular. “That's not bad! Damn, Song, you're not as brainwashed as I thought you were.”

“I suppose I am supposed to say 'thank you' for that too?” she asked.

“If you want to,” Cale winked at her. “It's a good thing, trust me. I like you. You have ideas locked up in that head of yours, I just need to coax them out.”

Song chuckled to herself. Cale did remind her a bit of her old friend Bright Eyes. Though in many ways they were different, Bright Eyes had possessed a fun loving side that Song had never considered herself to have until she began spending time with the turian woman. “Maybe you're not as idiotic as I first thought you were,” she commented.

Cale shrugged, easing himself to the floor and beginning to do pushups. He hitched for a moment, wincing and rubbing his side where the arrow had been, then his face grew focused and he continued his routine. Song watched his form for a moment, then mimicked him. She found she couldn't do many, her arms shaking after only seven. Cale stopped and sat to watch her. “You know, if you wanted I could help you bulk up a little. Might help in the arena.”

“If we live long enough to use my new muscles,” Song huffed, finishing her set by flopping to her belly on the cold floor.

Five made a little sound from his bunk and both of them looked up. Song rose, hurrying over to their salarian companion. She sat down on the edge of his bed, “Five? You alright?”

“Do I need to start shouting for somebody?” Cale asked, brows rising with worry. “I'm very loud when I want to be.”

“We know,” Song shot him a look.

Five blinked at the ceiling and met her eyes. His expression was almost unreadable. Song tilted her head closer to him. “What is it, Five?”

“I...” His voice was raspy. “I died today.”

“Yeah.” Cale's voice was heavy as he walked over and sat down on the floor beside Five's bed.

“It wasn't a pleasant experience,” the salarian mumbled.

“I'll bet,” Song said, her tone gentle. She reached out and put her hand on Five's slim bicep. She could wrap her hand entirely around it and she wondered if all salarians were so thin.

“How are we going to survive any more battles? We barely did today... fuck... I didn't survive today.” Fave looked to the ceiling again.

“You did,” Song said, giving his arm a squeeze. “You did and so did we, thanks to you. You kept us all alive.”

“You sure did, buddy,” Cale reached up and clasped Five's shoulder for a moment.

Five shuddered as though caught in a sob he couldn't express. Song wondered if salarian's cried. They didn't seem to, but Five looked as close as she had ever seen a salarian come. “Five, look at me,” she said, firmly.

His eyes drifted back to lock with hers and he took a shaky breath.

It took every ounce of will she had for Song to continue. “We thought we were going to die today and we didn't. Next time in the arena, who knows what'll happen. Until then. We're a team. Yesterday we were three people in a transport shuttle. Today we saved each other's lives. I... I don't know where I'm going with this except, you're not alone.” Her heart felt as though someone was squeezing it in their fist. She spoke the words, but she didn't believe them. Today they had survived, but tomorrow they could be on the stretcher, wheeled past unfeeling guards and it didn't matter how 'together' they were. Tears prickled in her eyes, but she did not allow them to slip down her cheeks.

“Oh great, you're choking me up,” said Cale, swiping at his own eyes. “I must be really tired.”

“I don't want to do that again,” Five said.

“What again?” Song asked, leaning closer.

“Die.”

She smiled. “I think we can all agree on that. We're all the Team Yellow that there is. One of us dies, the whole team dies.”

“One of us are all of us,” Cale mused, looking at the floor. “Reminds me of a book Luke liked reading. He never got me to check it out. I'm not into classics.”

“Who's Luke?” Song asked, remembering that name from the arena.

“He's my... he's-” Cale's voice hitched. His muscular shoulders slumped.

“You don't have to tell us,” Five had turned his head to look at Cale. He raised his hand and clasped Song's arm as she held his.

Cale squeezed his nose between thumb and forefinger, grimacing. Then he took in a big breath letting his hand fall to his lap. “No. It's fine. It's just... Luke is my husband. I... I just got the strangest feeling I'll never see him again and I can't let myself think that or I'll give up. I can't give up, y'know?” He looked up at Song, tears already leaving tracks down his face. “He won't give up. When I don't get back from my job, he'll try to find me. I gotta escape because he won't know where to search.”

The three sat in silence for a long moment. Each was wrapped in the sorrow that bled freely from them and mingled in the air. Song thought of Cale having someone he loved so deeply that was left behind. She missed her friends, but knew it was nothing to leaving a husband. She had never allowed herself to become so close with anyone. She looked at Five. He had even fewer people to miss than she did, yet he wanted to live as strongly as any of them. She wondered, as she looked at their faces in turn, how she could already feel close to them after only a day.

She still barely knew this passionate pilot yet she knew she'd defend him in the arena. She'd risk her own life for Five rather than letting him put himself in danger again for her. It was a strange feeling to be bonded with strangers. A fearful feeling of hope, desperate trust and longing. There was also unease as the logical part of her brain reminded her that ether of them could turn on her. She didn't know their hearts, only this moment with them, but she was willing to give them a good chance to prove that they all belonged on this doomed little team.

 

 

Here is a notebook sketch of Song. I tried to draw Cale as well, but I can't get his face right. Cover art of this story coming soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more sedate emotional chapter for y'all. If you are enjoying this, don't forget to drop a comment and say hi! :)


	5. Trouble Makers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep your eyes open for a sketch of Cale (finally) at the end of the chapter!

Chapter 5  
Trouble Makers

“Song? Soooooong! Wake up, lazy bones!”

Song blinked awake and looked around. She was back home tucking into her little bed in the slave barracks. Bright Eyes was grinning at her from across the room, mandibles spread. “What?” Song rubbed her eyes. Everything looked fuzzy, like she was peering at the world through tears. No amount of wiping her eyes would clear them.

“Come on, you're late!” Bright Eyes scolded, hands on hips. The turian cocked her head in the direction of the main house. “You missed breakfast, and your mistress will be up any minute. You had better get moving!”

Song scrambled to her feet. She looked around for her clothes, then realized she was already wearing them, even her shoes. She scowled, but before she had time to ponder further Bright Eyes was calling her on. She stepped out of the barracks into a beautiful day, no sign of any impending storms. The wild, thick vegetation which was allowed to grow all over the grounds was brighter and more vibrant than Song had ever seen it. The valo flowers, which only opened on sunny days, filled the air with their intoxicating perfume. Song knew that her young mistress would want to spend the day outside.

Her mistress. Why had she been trying to forget the little girl's name? To wipe the child's face clean from her memory. That couldn't be right. Asla was everything. Why was thinking of her now bringing a bitter taste to Song's mouth? She swallowed it down, letting her face fall into the placid mask her family favored. Mother and Father were already up and about, their four legs clicking and clacking against the tile as they went about their business.

Song moved through the house towards Asla's room. The little girl was resting snugly in her nest, but she woke the moment Song entered. Asla's biotic energy filled the room like an expanding bubble. Song was pushed back a step by the force of the girl's awakening power. Asla had never used her biotics to harm Song, though the adults had been known to be harsh with slaves if they saw the need. “Time to be up, little princess,” Song said in the muu language.

As she looked into Asla's little face her heart gave an abrupt stab of pain. She wanted to look away. To banish the child from her sight. It was an alarming sensation and she didn't understand it. She had to work to keep her face expressionless when it normally came easily to her. Her breath hitched and she wondered if she was having a panic attack of some kind. But why? This morning was just like any other. Fighting down a rising dread like bile from her stomach, Song walked through the morning routine in a trance. “Sing to me!” Asla begged as she dressed.

“I don't sing any more,” Song's voice was low, mechanical. It didn't sound like her own, and as though she was calling to herself over a great distance.

Asla pouted, but did not press the issue. “Today we're going outside,” she announced.

Song and Asla were outdoors on the hillside, looking out over the grounds. How had they come to be here? Hadn't they just been in Asla's room? Song shook her head, trying to get rid of the cotton that seemed to be clogging her thoughts. She couldn't think straight and her vision was still blurred at the edges. Maybe she was sick. She turned to the girl, who was scuttling up and down the hill, whooping happily to be out in the sunshine. Song opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She felt like someone had punch all the air from her and she gasping, fighting for breath. Asla was beside her far more quickly than should have been possible. “What's the matter, Song?”

Song looked up. Asla's voice was cold and grating like metal against metal instead of small and sweet. The little girl's face was twisted into a cruel frown, deeper than any Song had seen on a muu. “I-” Song croaked, clawing at her throat, still unable to pull in any air.

Asala grinned wickedly, her dark eyes going small and vicious. Song drew back from her, then glanced down the hill. The lush trees and forest no longer stood invitingly at the bottom. Instead there was massive, stone pit. Inside krogan, salarians, turians and asari all looked up at Song with hate in their eyes. They waved weapons at her and beckoned on harsh voices. Song turned back to her mistress in time to be shoved, head over heels, down the hill and into the pit. The last thing she saw as she was hacked to bits was Asla's laughing face.

~~~~~

Song landed with a thud and a little gasp on the cold, white floor of their room. She curled into a ball, still half in her dream, feeling the blades of her new adversaries rake her skin.

“Song?”

Her name finally snapped her fully into the world. She looked up to see Cale staring at her from his own bed by the faint illumination from the glowing table. Judging by the befuddled look on his face and the bags under his eyes her fall had wakened him. The lights in the room came on with a silent abruptness and everyone took a moment to adjusted their eyes to it before anyone spoke again. When Song was finally able to see clearly both Cale and Five were staring at her.

She tucked in her feet and sat up, rubbing at her shoulder which had taken the brunt of her fall. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Bad dream?” asked Cale, rising and stretching towards the ceiling with a grimace.

“I suppose so.” She struggled to shake the images of her young mistress's face contorted with sadistic glee as she watched Song be hacked to bits.

“Are you hurt?” Five's voice was much stronger after a night's sleep and his skin had regained a good deal of its coppery coloration.

“No,” Song waved him off, rotating her shoulder experimentally.

“What were you dreaming about?” Asked Cale.

“Nothing.”

The pilot paused, his eyes searching. Song artfully let her face relax. Cale made an annoyed 'tch' sound and continued stretching, using some of the motions Song had showed him the night before. “You don't need to do that 'no emotions' thing with us you know. We're all friends now.”

Song considered this, but did not drop her mask. Instead she sighed, standing and working the kinks out of her back with popped enthusiastically. Even after a night's sleep, she was still nearly as sore as she had when they had been brought from the arena. She glanced at Five, who was still sitting on his bed, considering both humans curiously. “How are you feeling?”

Five blinked at her silently for a moment, uncertain how to answer. Finally he smiled crookedly, “well, I'm not dead.”

Cale laughed abruptly, which made both Song and Five jump. “I think that is about as good as we can expect, huh, buddy?”

Song was struck with the sudden urge to ask the salarian was it was like to die. Had it hurt? Had it been frightening? She held her tongue, knowing that her friend's sanity might be hanging on by a thread. A fresh string struck her heart as she wondered what new battles awaited them today. Would they be tossed into another arena so soon after they had escaped the last one? Her throat threatened to close up, but she fought past it, instead focusing on her stretches, feeling practically every muscle protest.

The door to their roomed shot open a few minutes later and the two guards from the day before looked in. Cale stood up from his stretch and glowered at them. “Can we help you?”

The batarian guard chuckled, drawing his stun stick.

“Cale,” Song hissed, barely audible. “What are you doing?”

“Being an idiot. Like we talked about,” he gave her a winning grin, striking a fighter's pose and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Either of you lads think you can handle someone whose been in the arena?”

The turian, Mordo, made a sound which was half laughter, half growl. Song let her blank expression fall into place and she slunk against the wall, eyes cast down. She shot occasional glances up at the guards, but they were ignoring both her and Five. As they approached Cale, tapping batons against their hands, the gap between them and the open door widened. Song knew she wasn't meant to take this opportunity, merely to see it, gauge it, and understand this strange power she had.

Her attention was drawn back to Cale as he let out an “Oof!” of pain. The batarian had jabbed his baton into Cale's belly and the man doubled over. Both guards laughed.

Mordo's keen, predatory gaze flicked at last to Song and Five, who both stood demur as any good career slaves. The turian gave a cruel snort and turned back to the door. “Breakfast.”

Song moved with the shuffling steps of one whose spirit was broken, Five coming to join her. Cale trailed behind, favoring his ribs. Song wondered how much of a show he was putting on, but she didn't turn to check on him. Let the guards believe in their indifference towards one another as long as they could.

Outside their room the hallway was a buzz of guards and teams once more. Today it seemed even louder and more rowdy. A fight broke out just up the hall and Song turned her head fractionally to see. Three of the human team had jumped an unwary guard, but were swiftly put down with flashes of electricity, as well as being beaten about their heads and necks until they surrendered and slipped back into file with the rest of Black Team.

“You had better not get any ideas, human,” their batarian guard said to Cale, who only smiled cockily back.

Song's thoughts kept threatening to drift dangerously. She wanted to root herself in the moment, but instead she kept picturing herself on that riverbank, only this time the turian shot arrow after arrow into her unprotected body. Her heart rattled into a panicked rhythm and she struggled with her breathing. She could feel Five beside her and did not need to look up to see that he was trembling. “Just... just get breakfast,” she muttered to her friend. “Just eat and we'll worry about each thing as it comes. She found his hand for a brief moment, squeezing and letting go before any of the guards noticed.

The crush for food was enough to distract Song from her impending doom. She was nearly knocked over three times in her effort to get a tray. Once Cale managed to run interference, smashing is shoulder into the burly human who threatened to send Song flying. She gritted her teeth as Cale received a punch in the face for his troubles before guards waded in and split things up. She couldn't let her friend take hits for her. Not if they were all going to survive. She set her jaw, stuck out her elbows and rooted herself. Anytime someone pushed against her she shoved back, firmly, establishing her space. Cale, nursing a bleeding lip, nodded his approval.

The walk with their trays towards Yellow Table at the far end of the room was even more hazardous. She and Cale tried to clump together, unable to see Five through the throng. The poor salarian was obliged to separate from them to stand in his own food line. Song hoped he wasn't being too buffeted and bruised.

“Hey!” Cale snapped as he tray was nearly ripped from his hands when a pack of Green Team turians hove through the crowd.

Three turians turned on Cale, mandibles pressed tightly to their jaws in disgust. Song sank back, but Cale did not give ground. Instead he met the cold glares of the Green Team members without fear. “What did you say to me, human?” One of the turians snarled. Her look was so deadly it might as well have been a blade.

“We're all trying to walk here,” Cale answered. “You don't own this section of floor.”

“Cale,” Song grabbed his arm. This was going too far. It was one thing to convince the guards that he was an idiot with no sense of self preservation, he didn't need to do it for the rest of the teams as well.

Cale didn't move and the turian grinned dangerously, letting her mandibles fall back to reveal very sharp teeth. In one, quick motion she swatted Cale's tray from his hand and sent it flying. Song hadn't been prepared for the speed with which the fight broke out. She gasped as she was smashed to one side by turians, rushing in to aid their comrades against the lone, insane, human as Cale went on the attack. Guards charged as well. Somewhere Song heard other teams cheering or laughing. She gripped her tray as hard as she could and tried to huddle around it protectively as she was smashed from both sides by fists, elbows and even heads.

A hand grasped her arm and hauled her free of the melee. She expected it to be Five, but when she looked up she gasped to see the slender turian archer from the riverbank was standing over her. He met her eyes for a fraction of a second, then waded back into the fray, fielding blows from both his people and the guards alike. Song watched, open mouthed, not even noticing the other people around her trying to get to their tables, or stopping to watch the fracas.

In a few moments the turian reappeared, shoving Cale in front of him. Song grabbed her friend and hustled him clear of the battle, which had clearly lost all focus. Now it was guards versus Green Team and they'd all forgotten Cale. “What-?” Song met the young turian's eyes. They were a startling green, set deep into the dark flesh and boney face-plates around them. He nodded to her before a guard caught him and jabbed him in the side with his stun baton. The turian growled and fell to a knee. Song retreated, dragging Cale with her.

“What the hell happened to you?!” Five was already sitting at Yellow Table, looking around urgently for his friends when Song and Cale hurried to join him. “Tell me you didn't get involved in that fight?!”

“Cale?” Song settled her friend on the bench beside her slamming her own tray down so hard her fork clattered to the floor. “Cale, look at me you idiot! How bad are you hurt?” She sat and grabbed the other human's jaw, turning him to face her forgetting all about hiding her emotions.

Cale laughed as he allowed her to inspect him. His lip and nose were bleeding freely and his right eye was swelling, but he still seemed to have all his teeth. “Relax, would you?”

Five passed a napkin, shaking his head. “Well, now no one will be in doubt that you're a hothead who makes bad decisions.”

Cale winced as Song pressed the napkin to his lip none too gently. “Turns out I actually am. That wasn't an act.”

Song clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to give the man a fresh bruise. “What about the rest of you? Anything broken?”

Cale raised a hand to shoo Song's ministrations away and took a moment to flex all his limbs. “I think I'm fine. Still smarts where the guards hit me with that baton, but surprisingly these belts on our shirts protected my important, internal bits.”

“Good to know they're not just for fashion,” Five said, bending down and scooping up Song's fork.

Song noticed that Five was no longer trembling. It seemed when she or Cale were in trouble he forgot his crippling fear. Come to think of it, so did she. She hadn't imagined herself in the arena once since the struggle to get her meal, and now her focus was on mopping all the blood off of Cale's face.

“Seriously, stop,” Cale grabbed her wrists. “People might be watching and we don't need them to know that you're really a softy under that cold exterior.” Song grudgingly handed him the napkin and he pressed it to his own lip, glancing balefully at the empty spot on the table where his tray should be. “I don't suppose they let you go back for a second try.”

“I doubt it very much,” Five said, poking at his own meal with disinterest.

Song slid her tray so it was half way between Cale and herself. “Just be subtle about it and I'm sure no one will notice.”

Cale turned and fluttered his lashes at her. “You're too good to me.”

“Shut up and eat,” Song carefully replaced her dull expression.

“Aaaand there goes her face. You still need to teach me that sometime,” Cale said, taking her fork and dividing the meal into equal pieces before settling in to eat with his fingers.

“What about you?” Song asked coolly, “you plan to go into the arena already bleeding? What if they had done worse than mess up your face.”

“My pretty face,” Cale corrected, dabbing gingerly at his nose. Song glared, so he went on. “This is good. Trust me. We established ourselves in their minds. I'm the rough one, the ringleader. You, you're shy and harmless.”

“And me?” asked Five.

“Everyone already underestimates you because you're a salarian. We were lucky there weren't any cameras on us yesterday because I don't think anyone has caught on to your biotics yet. We can use that.” Cale explained.

“I don't know if I want to use my biotics again,” said Five in a trembling voice.

“I hope you don't have to,” said Song, scooping up some of her fruit paste and chewing reflexively. Probably because we're all going to die today anyway, she thought, but didn't say. Five was already spooked and she didn't need him shutting down again.

“Anyway,” Cale went on enthusiastically, as though this were all play acting and he wasn't about to be thrown onto death's doorstep again as soon as they had finished eating. “If I keep being loud and acting dominant everyone will think I'm the leader instead of Song and that can work to our advantage.”

“I'm not the leader,” Song caught herself before her expression of surprise could reach her face.

Cale cocked his head at her and smiled behind his stained napkin. “Yesterday you had all the ideas and plans. My only thought was 'hide in the bushes.'”

“My plan got you shot by an arrow,” Song pointed out.

“And who was by my side pulling the arrow out?” Cale raised an eyebrow significantly at her. “Besides, at least we had a plan.”

Song wasn't sure how to classify the emotion that bubbled up in her belly. It felt like anger and frustration at Cale for insisting on believing things that simply weren't true, but there was a softer edge to it than anger might bring. A rush of something powerful, but tempered. It warmed her, and as much as she longed to tell Cale to shut up and be sensible, she didn't. Instead she focused on her food. Five didn't argue either. Did he also believe her to be the leader of their little group? She bit the inside of her lip.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Song's head snapped up and she found their arena guard, Ric, standing over them. His baton was out and he was sporting a small, swelling cut beneath his eye. He did not look pleased. Cale fielded the question. “Eating breakfast.”

Ric rolled his eyes, which Song noticed for the first time were hazel. She took Ric in, realizing he was a plain looking man of average height and build. He might be easily lost in a crowd and forgotten. She had barely noticed his appearance at all the day before as she had focused on the task of staying alive and then of getting back to their room without incident. “What were you doing starting a fight?” The guard asked.

Cale didn't answer, but eyed Ric's baton as though considering how bad it would be to take another zap from one. Five filled in hurriedly, “it was an accident.”

Ric shifted a doleful gaze to the salarian, “Oh, I'm sure it was,” he said sarcastically. He focused on Cale again. “I have to say, pal, that it was mighty slick the way you started that fight, then slipped out of it. That kind of thinking might help you in the arena.”

Song did a double take. Was Ric congratulating them? Clearly he had been called in to help break up the scuffle, which by the end had involved several of the teams, including the humans and a few asari. Ric's expression had already softened from one of annoyance to barely concealing a smile.

“What brings you to our humble dining hall? Don't you work in the arena?” Asked Cale.

“On game days, yeah. The rest of the time I work in here,” Ric explained, slipping his baton back into its sheath. He leaned casually forward against the table as though he were talking with friends, not slaves he would routinely lead into deadly situations.

“Game days?” Five's voice still had a quaver to it.

Ric raised an eyebrow. “We don't have games every day. That would be insane. No, we typically have them once, sometimes twice a week if there are specials. Like for holidays and stuff.”

“So there's no game today?” Song asked.

“Nope.”

All three members of Yellow Team looked at one another as though they had been walked back down from standing at the execution block. Five cleared his throat, managing to speak. “What- what are we meant to do on non-game days?”

Ric shrugged. “Damned if I know. Sleep? Pray to whatever gods you worship? If you have points you can spend them to use the special training rooms on the outer ring, but you guys don't have any points.”

Song watched Ric for a moment. His easy, casual stance. He didn't fear them at all. He was right not to. Even if they suddenly attacked him now they would only get in a few good licks before the other guards were on them. Strangely she found she didn't want to try to hurt Ric. He might have felt a little too safe around them, but she caught herself growing comfortable with him as well, and she scolded herself inwardly. In a pinch this man would come down against her every time. He wasn't a friend, he was a jailor.

“Can I asked you something, Ric?” Cale leaned forward on his elbows.

“Shoot,” the guard said, taking a moment to scan the room before returning his attention to Cale.

“I don't see any quarian slaves. Why?”

“Too fragile,” Ric shrugged again. “You rupture one of their suits and if it isn't treated you've got more dead slaves than live ones. That's no good for the arena. The viewers aren't interested in watching someone die slowly from a suit rupture-”

“Why would they when they can see heads being ripped off in real time?” Song asked bitterly.

“Exactly,” Ric remained unphased. Song wondered how many people he had witnessed being slaughtered. For all she knew he had stood by and enjoyed the show as the previous Yellow Team had met their ends. A bitter taste filled her mouth, like metal and blood.

As Ric and Cale chatted for a bit longer Song scanned the rest of the room. Perhaps everyone was exceptionally rowdy today because it was the beginning of their weekly vacation. A time to cement their team alliances and make trouble for the guards and other teams. Before long her eyes found Green Team. She tried to locate the lanky turian who had helped her and Cale during the fight. She couldn't find him in the sea of nearly identical crests and gray, scaled faces. She thought of asking Ric if he knew the turian, but thought better of it. Cale might have been an idiot most of the time, but he knew when to keep things to themselves and he hadn't mentioned their savior. She had no desire to broadcast her interest in the mysterious archer.

She turned back in time to see Ric walking away and wondered what she'd missed. Inwardly she chided herself. If she was going to be 'leader', as Cale had proclaimed, she was going to need to pay more attention. She glanced at Cale, who was back to simultaneously eating and trying to keep his nose from dripping blood on the tray. Song watched for a moment, trying to decide whether to feel sorry for him or laugh at him, then she too tucked into her half of the food. They passed the rest of the meal in silence.

When breakfast time was over, rather than being herded to the door nearest Yellow table and into the hallway with all the weapons and armor, the slaves were instead sent back the way they had come to their rooms. Once they had returned, guided by their usual guards, Song and her companions sat on their beds and looked at one another, uncertain. Days of reprieve before their next arena struggle sounded great, but what was there to do besides sit and dread?

“Come on, both of you, I'll teach you some exercises,” Cale stood, gesturing to Song and Five.

Song caught Five's uneasy glance, but she rose, straightening her shirt and walking over to join Cale. “You know this is pointless. We're not going to gain enough muscle in a week to survive the next arena.”

“You're such a ray of sunshine in a dreary world,” quipped Cale as he got down onto the floor with a grunt.

Song felt a smile threaten on her lips, but kept it under control. She didn't want Cale to think he had any power to amuse her. Looking at him now, as she got to all fours for some pushups, she could barely reconcile the man beside her with the one she had instantly disliked in the slave shuttle. Granted, this Cale still made some bad choices at inopportune times, she corrected herself as she managed three pushups without hesitating.

Cale stopped what he was doing and instructed his comrades. “Good, Song, just go a little bit lower. Yeah, like that. Keep your back straight. Five... maybe pushups aren't for you...” Because of the way his legs were put together the salarian found himself unable to do conventional pushups, so Cale had to figure out another method. Song worked, enjoying the strain in her arms and pull of her ab muscles. It felt good to be doing something so real and visceral, even if she wasn't very good at it.

“So, Five, you said you grew up a slave. What was that like?” Cale asked conversationally as he lead them through situps and crunches.

Five looked at Cale as though the human had spoken another language. “What was it like? It was like growing up in a box where no one gives a shit about you.”

Cale faltered, “er... fuck. I'm sorry, buddy. I was just trying to find something to talk about...”

“Well done,” Song muttered as she worked. She was much better at the situps.

“No, it's fine,” Five said, waving a dismissive hand. “I'm learning that humans like to try to relate to one another by talking about their pasts. I just don't have a whole lot to relate with.”

Cale shrugged as he held down Five's feet. “Was there ever anything good?”

Five considered for a moment as he laced his long fingers behind his head and began his situps. “I was usually in a hold with several other salarians. Sometimes we'd get someone who had been a working slave and they'd have stories to tell of the muu, or whoever they were slave to. I suppose I didn't pay too much attention,” he smiled ruefully, panting with each situp. He was surprisingly skilled at this exorcize and soon Song was working to keep up.

“Any stories you do remember?” Cale asked.

“I suppose there was this one salarian who found out I had biotics. He was really impressed and told me I shouldn't ever show my slavers because then they'd try to use me.”

“You show it to us,” Song cocked an eyebrow.

“We were going to die. I supposed it wouldn't hurt.”

“You just knew that we were fine, upstanding, people whom you could trust.” Cale interjected, grinning. The cut on his lip reopened and he was obliged to stop what he was doing to get some toilet paper from the bathroom and sit for a while with it pressed to his mouth.

“I'd never met humans for more than a few minutes before,” Five admitted. He'd stopped doing situps, for which Song was grateful because her abs were beginning to feel like someone was jabbing a knife into them. She mopped sweat from her brow with her hand and watched her salarian friend as he went on. “Sometimes, when we'd go to slave auctions, I'd meet some humans who were up to be sold as well.”

“What were they like?” Song asked.

“You,” Five gestured at her. “And me. Careers mostly. There was this one little one-” his eyes went distant. “She was a child, quite young. Her mother had been sold without her and she wouldn't stop crying. The other humans tried to comfort her or maker her be quiet. It got me thinking that I was glad I had never known my parents. Did you?”

Song shook her head. Whenever she tried to picture a family she only saw her muu masters. Thinking of them brought a fresh jab of pain to her chest, and it wasn't from working out. Her throat went dry and she fought to keep her mind from drifting to the faces of the people she thought she would remain with forever. They may have been masters when she could have had an ordinary family on some human colony, but she still missed them, especially her young mistress. With great effort she forced the child's name deeper into the vault of her memory to be locked away and never reopened.

Cale, clearly sensing that everyone was only getting more distressed, cleared his throat. “New rule. No more talking about our past. We'll try to stay rooted in the here and now, shall we? Okay? Cardio time! Jumping jacks, follow me!”

The three stood and began jumping, awkwardly at first. Song caught herself chuckling as Cale had to duck the failing of Five's long arms. Their instructor was clearly struggling with his own amusement as he corrected them. “No, no, your arms and legs need to move together! Keep a rhythm! Like this. No, like this, Song! You're doing it wrong on purpose now!”

The week passed in the same fashion. Two meals a day in the large hall with the other teams, punctuated by Cale making a show of being the loudest and stupidest of the group. Song hung back, face blank so no one would guess she was watching their every move.

While Cale was earning himself two black eyes she noticed that the krogan team was not as chaotic and troublesome as she might have assumed from the warlike giants. She suspected a considerably older male who was usually walking in the middle of the pack might have something to do with their calm.

When Cale 'made more friends' in Green Team Song watched the way the asari and humans interacted. They seemed similar from the outside, but she soon noted the difference in the way they moved and acted. With the humans things were fluid, with leadership changing and troublemakers emerging almost randomly, while the asari had a rigid hierarchy and it did not take Song long to be able to recognize their leaders.

As Cale chatted with Ric, who often visited their table when he was looking for an excuse to slack off, Song tried to make heads or tales of the salarians. They were too close knit of a group and even with entire mealtime's worth of studying she still wasn't certain who was in charge.

Her study of Green team did not yield many new results either, but she did catch sight of the lanky turian a few times. He only met her eyes once, and then only for a fraction of a second as as his group passed her. The turians traveled in formation, even during meals.

Between meals the members of Yellow Team followed Cale through a workout routine and talked very little. Cale's new conversation rule held, except a few times when he decided to attempt to cheer the others with tales of something called 'ice cream' and when he had been piloting a small ship and nearly gotten himself lost and turned around in an asteroid belt, which he thought was hugely amusing, but which only confused Song and Five.

Even with all this activity, the day came all too quickly when they would once again step into the arena.

 

I was having trouble drawing Cale then I realized I just needed two things. 1. Big, cocky grin. 2. Blood and/or bruises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this chapter wasn't completely thrilling, but Cale got beat up, so what more could you want? Don't worry, we're back in the arena next chapter and it is NOT going to go well for Song! I bet you're excited!


	6. Struggle

Chapter 6  
Struggle

“Will the arena be the same as last time?” Cale asked Ric, who was standing with them in the armory hall. The guard once again looked utterly bored, chewing on his gum and leaning against the wall.

Ric let out a snort-laugh. “You're kidding right?”

“Afraid not,”

Song scanned the teams, idly checking all their faces to see if last minute slaves had been brought in to replace the dead from the week before. She didn't see anyone new yet. The white clad slaves wove amongst them, distributing armor and weapons. Song turned her attention back to Ric and Cale.

“It wouldn't be much fun for viewers if we always used the same terrain, now would it? No. Different arena, different game every time.”

“Shit,” Five hissed under his breath. While they had not talked about it much over the week, it was widely understood amongst the three that their survival strategy for this week was supposed to be exactly like their previous one. Run, hide, don't get involved. She might have known each arena would look different. When she she had seen snippets of The Game at home the environments had differed each time, but she had been too distracted by the violence on display to make note of it. The salarian looked at Song with wide, soulful eyes. Don't make me die again, his eyes pleaded. Song reached over and clasped his hand.

“These are yours,” a slave clad in clean white stopped in front of Yellow Team and held out a tray with three medigel canisters and one, silver arrow.

Song almost laughed as she plucked the arrow from the tray. It had been cleaned so no trace of Cale's blood remained. She thought of asking the slave what on earth she was supposed to do with a single arrow, but kept her mouth shut and her expression emotionless, tucking the arrow into her belt and arranging it carefully so it would not stab her when she ran or crouched.

“Any tips for us?” Cale asked, raising his eyebrows at Ric.

Ric let out a breath through his teeth, folding his arms and considering Cale for a moment. “Same as before. Keep your heads down. Maybe try to score a point or two this time.” He shot a surreptitious glance around, then leaned in, his voice hushed. “I know the game you'll be playing. You should have a chance to score points, even if you don't fight... which you should not.”

“Right,” Cale nodded knowingly. “Thanks.”

Ric shrugged and lowered his eyelids in a half-doze, clearly finished talking to them. Song looked to Cale, who met her eyes. He was getting a little better at reading her eyes through her expressionless facade. He flicked his gaze towards Ric and raised his eyebrows again, indicating that he too was impressed how little this man feared them. A smile flashed for the barest moment on Cale's lips before he too managed to calm his expression.

Five had a far more difficult time concealing his emotions. He looked ready to bolt, or pass out, or some combination thereof. He kept hold of Song's hand like a lifeline, long fingers gripping tightly. Song let him, even if it did remind her painfully of holding little Asla's hand as they ran through the garden or darted around the house enjoying some energetic game.

The alarm sounded and the door to the arena opened with a hiss and 'thunk'. Ric grunted and pushed himself away from the wall with his elbows and gesturing them on, finally drawing his baton. He didn't threaten with it, but kept it ready, eying the other teams far more than he watched Yellow. Song cut another glance at Cale as he moved to walk beside her. “You're alright?” she asked. He'd scuffled briefly with their guards that morning and taken a baton zap to the arm.

“I'm good. Thanks for the bedside manner,” he flashed her another of his shining smiles. She wondered if he had charmed his husband, Luke, with smiles alone.

Song's brows shot up even as her heart dropped to meet her stomach. The arena that spread before them was very different indeed. Instead of lush forest and open grassy clearings, there was water, a great deal of it. Small, bare islands could be seen dotting the seascape. Song swallowed, wishing now that she hadn't let go of Five's hand while they walked. The muu did not swim, nor did they favor living near water where the weather was impossible to manage. Song had never even had a bath in a tub before. She looked down as grey ripples tickled the shore near her feet and tried not to voice the panicked yell which was rising inside her trembling body.

“Get on,” Ric instructed.

Song looked up to see him standing on a small, flat boat. Each team was being ferried out to the little islands by their various guards. Song thought she might not be able to move. Her legs had become stone and she was rooted to the spot, staring in wide eyed terror at the water. “I c- I can't.” she breathed.

“You can't? What, swim?” Ric tilted his head. “Well, I suppose it's a good thing I didn't put any money on you today. Let's go, girly. On the boat.” Ric beckoned but still did not menace with his baton. Beside them the krogan team was loaded onto a much larger craft. The krogan did not look pleased about the water either, eying it suspiciously. They were herded like cattle by guards with drawn stun sticks.

“Come on, Song.” It was Five who spoke, his voice gentle. Once again his fingers twined with hers and he guided her onto the boat. She followed in a daze, but as soon as she was aboard and let out a little moan and sat down as close to the center of the craft as she could. She hugged her knees and stared out at the little waves, wondering how deep it was. Maybe, she hoped as she clenched her jaw painfully tight, it was shallow.

Five crouched at Song's side, holding her shoulders protectively. She hardly registered this gesture as the little skiff came to rest against the first island. “Off you get,” Ric said.

Song looked up in alarm to see Cale stepping off the boat and onto what looked to be merely a mound of sand protruding from the water. He turned back to his companions, his own eyes filled unmistakeably with fear. Song made as if to stand, but to her surprise and dismay the boat moved again, little motor chugging as it floated them away from Cale. “What-?” she spluttered, too quietly for Ric to hear. No. This was wrong. What was happening?!

They stopped again a few moments later at another island of roughly the same size. “Who's next?”

“Song?” Five looked down at her doubtfully.

Song tried to force her mind to rally. She was supposed to be the leader and she was doing a bang-up job thus far. Swallowing hard, her throat once again so tight she could barely breath, she looked up at Five. “I'll... I'll take this one.” A whisper was all she could manage. The salarian had to help her to her feet and hold her arm as she shuffled stiffly from the boat.

“I'm going to be the last one done and I only have three people to drop. Can we hurry this up please?” Ric griped, revving the little engine for emphasis.

The island, which was about fix feet wide and circular, was not completely made of sand. Instead it was a metal platform coated with a thick layer of the stuff to make it look slightly more natural. In the middle Song could see the starting plate where she would be expected to stand until the game began, just like last time. She turned, feeling Five's hand leave her arm and watched him go, ferried away to the next island. She looked back the way they had come and could see Cale standing on his own platform. Five was deposited at the next island on Song's other side. At least they were in reach of one another if any of them could swim, she thought, trying to reassure herself as she stepped onto her starting plate.

Ric motored by a few moments later, waving to her as he went. She did not wave back. Instead she took stock of the rest of her surroundings. The water lapped lazily at her island and did not appear to have a strong current or dangerous waves. In the middle of the arena a tall island stood, like a steep hill jutting out of the water. This one was bedecked with rich jungle with a sandy beach ringing it like a skirt. Around the center island at intervals were smaller ones like the ones Song and her friend stood upon. Song could make out other teams settled on them, the colored lights of their armbands denoting them clearly. Unlike Song and company the other teams were allowed to have several members on each island.

To her left Song saw Green Team, and to her right, across the center island from Green was Blue. She could not see Grey, Red or Black. They were obscured from her view by the hulking landmass in the arena center. She saw several other boats skitter past, heading for the exit, and heard what she assumed was supposed to be seabird song, though she didn't spot any animals and didn't know what seabirds were supposed to sound like anyway. She tried to get her breathing under control and relax her muscles, shaking out her hands and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. At this rate she would try to step off the platform and fall flat on her face, her legs were so tense.

“Welcome, Welcome to another fabulous day in the arena! It's time for a Game!” The disembodied voice from unseen speakers announced brightly. “We have a fun one today! Node capture! For those of you watching at home, this is a game all about owning your space! There are six nodes spread amongst the small, outer islands and one in the center! Each outer node is worth ten points. The inner one is worth twenty five! To earn those coveted points a team must have at least one live member standing on the node at the end of the game. The team with the most nodes wins and is awarded the grand prize! Their choice of a weapon from the armory! Today all kills are worth five points, all wounds worth ten!”

Song focused on letting her breath flow in and out reasonably rather than coming in little hitches and gasps. They had all worked on a breathing exercises to finish off their workout routines, but Song was having trouble following it today. Breath in, hold it...you're going to drown! Breath out... You'll die gasping, your lungs filling with water! Breath in... It's going to hurt!

BONG!

The light hovering in the blue sky above the center island showed red. Song gave up on her breathing, letting her mind instead rattle to life at alarming speed. What to do? She didn't swim, but if the others did maybe they could help her. Did they dare make for cover on the center island, or should they stay out here and hope no one bothered to come this far?

BONG!

The light was yellow. Her instinct told her to stay. The other teams would be vying for the heavy points in the center. If she hunkered down out here no one would bother to swim out to see what her pathetic team was up to.

BONG!

The light was green, and then it vanished. To Song's amazement, so did Five. The moment the light went green the salarian dove in a graceful arc and hit the water without even causing a splash. Moments later came swimming up to join Song as though he were born to it. She gaped at him as the salarian pulled himself from the water, leaving a widening puddle on the sand.

“How-?” was all Song managed to choke out.

“Salarians swim,” Five shrugged his narrow shoulders. “We're hatched into water and even those of us raised by slavers can swim.”

Song stared slack-jawed at her friend for a long moment, nearly forgetting about her own deadly predicament. She heard a splash not far off and turned to see that Cale too had left his platform and was swimming in their direction. He was having a bit more trouble and did not make nearly as good of time as Five had. Finally the human hauled himself slowly to shore with Five and Song grabbing his shirt and pulling. He flopped onto the sad, panting and laughing at the same time. “I haven't been swimming since I was thirteen. I used to go to the local pool with some friends. There was this hot lifeguard I liked to ogle. He had this amazing tan and-”

“Cale!” Song snapped, glancing nervously out at the water. “Focus please!”

“Right. Sorry, boss,” Cale tilted his head and tried to extract water from his ear with a finger. “What's the plan?”

“I don't know if there is a plan,” Song admitted. She had not prepared for a water arena, not even in her wildest imaginings. Her mind worked quickly however and she let herself speak her thoughts aloud for the others. “Grey team will be our biggest issue. If all salarians can swim, and do it as well as Five, they'll have a decided advantage.”

There was the sound of distant shouting coming from the main island. Song checked the platforms where she had seen Green and Blue team members. All were empty. “Looks as though the asari and turians have figured out this water thing as well,” Five commented, following her gaze.

“Right, and I don't swim at all.” Song hated to admit it, but she supposed it was obvious from her reaction to the water arena. As she said it, both Cale and Five nodded. “I don't suppose you could teach me right now?”

“The basics. Maybe,” Five looked uncertain. “How to float or tread water. If no one is swimming over to try to kill us, anyway.”

“I have a feeling the krogan aren't too keen on water either,” Cale put in, pulling off a boot and emptying it out. “They seem like they'd sink right to the bottom.”

“Hey, Song...” Five prodded Song's arm with a long finger.

“Yes?”

“Was your island always glowing?”

“What?”

Five pointed at the sand and Song looked down, her eyebrows shooting upwards. The sand itself seemed ordinary enough, but the platform beneath it was indeed alight with a yellow glow. She looked at her little starting pad, the round plate of metal as dull as a coin. “Neither of yours did that?” She asked.

“I don't think so. I can swim over and look,” Five offered.

“Mine didn't, I'm sure of it,” said Cale, brushing aside an armful of sand to reveal the metal platform under it. Three ribbons of yellow light shone brightly out from the furrow.

Song stared at the glowing platform, coming to a realization. “Oh fuck! This is a node. They put me right on top of a fucking node!”

“Calm down,” Cale raised his hands in a steadying gesture. “This is okay. If we cap this node at the end of the battle we win points, and god could we use points.”

“You don't think anyone is going to come over here looking to get those points for themselves?” Song asked not bothering to conceal the feelings on her face. As the week has passed she wore her mask of calm less and less around her two companions. “Probably the reason no one has come swimming over here yet is because this node would be an easy last minute grab. Yellow Team isn't going to stop them.”

“Maybe we could,” Cale interjected. “They have to swim to us.”

“And then what? They have weapons and armor,” Five folded his arms.

“Armor will be heavy,” Song cocked her head. “Maybe some will leave it behind. I do have this.” she held up her arrow.

“Thank goodness. We're saved,” quipped Five.

Song turned to the salarian, looking sternly up into his face. “Five, I've seen you levitate forks at mealtime. You said most biotics can't be that precise, but you can. How fast do you think you could get this arrow going?”

“You're insane,” Five countered, a frown creasing his long features.

“Probably, but answer the question.” Song pressed, holding the arrow up to him.

Cale got to his feet, watching with a twinkle in his eyes. “Now you're thinking!”

Five heaved a sigh, then, raising one hand, he plucked the arrow from Song's grip using biotics. She felt the blue energy tingle against her fingers as the arrow lifted to hover before her eyes. Five turned, guiding the arrow with a lazy sweep of his hand. Then, face contorted with concentration, Five flicked his wrist as though throwing a pebble. The arrow took off, slicing into the water. Before Song could protest at Five's possibly losing their only weapon, it slipped back out and hovered back to them like a shy animal.

Once it was near enough Song reached up and pulled the arrow from the air. Five withdrew his biotic energy and refolded his arms. “That's how fast I can move it, apparently.”

“So we have a weapon,” Cale's teeth were gritted, his expression fierce. “We're not so helpless after all.”

In spite of herself Song felt her spirits lift ever so fractionally. Something caught her attention and she turned, squinting against the glare off the water. Her breath caught as the panic flared anew. “Five... it looks like we might get to test our new weapon.”

Five followed Song's gesture to two figures swimming doggedly in their direction. As they drew nearer Song recognized them as human and saw their dark armbands standing out, even under the water. She briefly marveled that the muu could make something glow black, but swiftly redirected her thoughts. “Cale,” she mumbled.

Cale, miraculously, caught her drift. He stood to his full height, making certain to show off his muscles as he strode across their island to glare at the approaching swimmers. “You two had better fuck off,” he called in a steady, almost bored tone.

No answer from the pair in the water, though Song noted that one was gripping a blade in her teeth. Not a small one either. The two did not stop swimming in their direction as though Song and her companions were not even present.

“I gave you a warning!” Cale boomed, flexing his arm muscle. He glanced back at Song, cocking an eyebrow expressively.

Song held up her arrow again, letting her expressionless mask slip back over her face, knowing now that some other humans found it unnerving. She grasped the arrow between her fingers like a dart she was about to throw. Five, who was mostly concealed behind Cale, the man taking up as much space as possible, raised his own hands, blue energy flicking and sparking from his long fingers. When she was certain Five was ready Song tossed the arrow. Five fumbled for a moment, the arrow dropping clumsily, then hovering before finally zipping forward and slicing into the shoulder of one of the approaching humans.

Five's aim was good. The wound was only a graze and the arrow sailed on past the swimmer before Five collected it back. It came in wide and Song had to reach awkwardly over the water to grab it, but soon it was in her hand again and she pointed it once more in the direction of the two humans.

The one they had hit faltered, grunting in pain and surprise as red began to spread out from his arm. Cale planted his hands on his hips and glowered like an angry parent. “I said: you better fuck off!”

The swimmer in the lead, the woman with a large knife clamped between her teeth, stopped as well, treading water and studying Song's group with new interest. She looked at her companion who was confusedly checking his arm. “What happened?” Song heard the woman ask around the blade in her mouth.

“Not sure,” the man said, “I think the female is a biotic. That arrow came right for me and they sure as fuck don't have a bow.”

“We don't need one,” said Cale, raising his chin. “Get gone! This is our island.”

The two humans conferred for a moment and Song couldn't hear what they were saying. She glanced tensely at Five, who still had his hands poised to call on his biotics again. He didn't look happy about it, but she supposed it was better than having to turn them all invisible. After a few nerve wracking moments ticked by the two Black team members seemed to think better of their situation and began to swim off.

“Well, that's them gone,” Cale made a show of wiping his hands together in a 'good riddance' gesture.

“Do you think we'll get the points for a wound, or does it have to be more severe?” Five asked, lowering his arms and looking at Song as though she had more answers.

“If we do get those points, plus capturing this node, we might have enough points to buy a weapons or some armor. Something better than one arrow and three canisters of medigel.” Song said, flicking the arrow once to shake off any excess water before tucking it away again.

“We seem to be doing alright with one arrow and three canisters of medigel,” Cale planted his hands on his hips, striking a heroic pose.

Song winced, “I'm not so sure. I imagine those were just scouts sent to see if we were still holding this node. They'll probably be back with friends.”

“You have brought the cheer as usual,” Cale sighed, “but you're probably right. We'd better come up with some kind of plan before we're overrun. If we want this node we are probably going to have to fight for it. At least they'll have to swim to reach us and we have the higher ground.”

“Higher-ish,” Five pointed and both humans followed his gesture to see a blue sphere hovering near the central island. Song squinted and realized it was an asari, completely surrounded by biotic energy and floating along over the water.

“Fuck,” Song exhaled, watching as the asari zipped in and out of the treeline, no doubt scouting for Blue Team.

“Can you do that?” Cale asked Five.

“I can hover silverware and arrows. I told you my biotics are precise not powerful.” Five scowled at Cale.

“Shhh,” Song waved a hand at her friends. “We don't need to get noticed.”

It was too late. The asari, shrouded though she was in swirling blue energy, had turned and was looking directly at them. Then she flew away, skipping over the top of the water like a skimming bug. Song's heart rate picked up again and she suspected all this extra activity wasn't good for it. Her hands went cold as she looked down to the water. They could just leave the island. If they swam away from the node they would probably be ignored. Of course that would mean she would have to swim. It also meant giving up these points, and now that she was there, standing on the node which was lit up in her team's color, she found she didn't want to give it up. Some part of her had become like a stone wall and was not about to be moved. She hoped her friends felt the same.

“Alright,” Song clasped her hands, squeezing them together too tightly to keep herself as calm as she could. “We have a few advantages. No one expects anything of us and we have something most of the other teams do not. A projectile.”

“Just one,” said Five.

“Yeah, but we can make it go wherever we like,” Cale pointed out.

“Right,” Song nodded. “They have to swim to us... well, most of them do, and we have an arrow we can control.”

“I can't do the arrow thing forever,” Five warned. “My energy isn't unlimited.” He paused, considering for a moment. “Then again neither is Blue Team's. To fly around like that, not to mention all the other biotic crap they've probably been doing this whole time, must have at least a few of them worn out. We're relatively fresh.”

“And we have a strong swimmer,” Song tapped her finger against Five's shoulder. “Can you swim and control the arrow at the same time?”

“I don't know, but we can try,” Five said, willingly slipping off the platform into the water. He almost looked pleased about it. Song watched nervously, half expecting a giant wave to appear and drag her friend away. She hated how she couldn't see the bottom and kept picturing herself being pulled under by some unseen force. Granted, she little concept of what it was like to be immersed in water, though in her head she imagined it like quicksand. She squatted and gingerly passed Five the arrow.

The salarian tread water for a while as he tried to figure out how to use his hands to control the arrow as the same time as swim. Song watched him as Cale kept guard over them both, scanning with his eyes for any sign of other teams. He did see a few members of Green run along the shore of the main island, then a cluster of Grey taking over a node to their left where Green Team had started. Luckily the salarians were then confronted by a few members of Green Team and no one came swimming over to check on Yellow.

“I think I can do it, as long as no one is trying to hack me to bits at the same time,” Five said, splashing awkwardly, then sending the arrow zipping past Song's head towards the dome-sky before recalling it back down to lodge in the sand by Song's foot. She Picked it up, shaking the sand free and checking the little flight feathers on its end. They were made of something synthetic and it seemed very tough. There was no sign of tearing, even after all they had put it through.

Song jumped and nearly put a foot in the water when another BONG sounded from above and the voice boomed “TEN MINUTE WARNING!”

Distantly Song heard an explosion from the other side of the big island and saw a plume of smoke rise up. She shuddered, guessing that Grey Team was up to their tricks again. There was the sound of yelling somewhere, a scream that sounded a lot like someone dying, followed by eery silence for a long moment. All three friends remained motionless, Five still in the water, holding on to the side of the platform and barely rippling the water as he kicked his feet to better stay afloat.

“This is it,” Song murmured, more to herself than anyone. “If things go sideways, abandon the node. It's not worth us getting killed.” She crouched, balancing on the balls of her feet, arrow poised to throw. “Five, stay in the water, stay out of sight. I want you to be a surprise. Cale...be yourself.”

Cale grinned his wide, goofy grin and stood tall, making sure everyone who swam near could not help but take in his opposing size and muscles.

Someone did swim near. Shapes slipped from the trees on the main island and made for the water. Song saw flashes from their blue armbands and skin. The asari were coming, and in much greater numbers than two scouts. Song counted six at least.

As Song watched the asari swimming nearer, catching sight of glinting weapons held in their mouths, or propelled before them in their hands, Cale snapped his fingers and pointed to more shapes which were rounding the main island from the other side and heading in their direction as well. Black Team. The humans swam just as doggedly as the asari and there seemed to be perhaps ten of them. Black Team had invested almost half its number to try for Yellow's node. Song guessed this meant they were desperate. She could hear the battle waging over the main node on the center island and she shuddered as another explosion rustled the trees and sent up more black smoke.

The asari were coming into range. “Time to surprise them,” Song muttered between gritted teeth. She glanced down at Five, who was floating so low in the water his his face was half concealed. He blinked in answer and poised a hand under the water. Song raised the arrow and with a flick of her wrist let it fly. This time Five caught it more easily with his gift. He raised himself slightly from the water by gripping the side of the platform to aim, then sent the projectile flying.

Song was gratified by the shout of surprise as the arrow struck its target. Five wasted no time. He sent the arrow ricocheting through the asari ranks, ripping back and forth, causing havoc. Inwardly Song counted wounds and tallied up their points with a sick kind of glee she never guessed she would feel. Ten! Twenty! Thirty! Her mood was so good she nearly forgot the human team, also heading their way.

“Five, we need a little of that action over here,” Cale called, standing imposingly at the edge of the platform and facing down the humans, who were swimming in a loose formation. Many of them even seemed to be faster swimmers than the asari.

Five did as he was instructed and whipped the arrow away from Blue Team to plunge it into Black. It was there that the arrow met with body armor. “Shit!” Five gasped. The blue light around his hands flickered and he sank slightly.

“Don't lose the arrow!” was all Song could think to say before she was yanked from her feet by an unseen force and slammed to the ground with thud that knocked her breath from her. As she lay, choking for air, she was vaguely aware of the biotic energy pulsing around her. It seemed the asari could also use their gift and swim at the same time.

For a long moment all Song heard was her own heartbeat too loud in her ears as she fought to take a breath. Her vision swam as she stared up to the false sky, complete with that same, repeating cloud she had seen the last time she was in the arena. She thought vaguely that whoever designed the sky was slacking off, when something else grabbed her, snatched her from the island, and plunged her into the water.

Death. This was death. This was exactly what dying felt like. Weightless, progressive, grasping fingers of cool water clawing their way into her nose, her mouth. Her whole being told her to scream, to fight against it, but instead she hung in the murky water, staring helplessly at the oncoming asari team. A strange calm overtook her as though her mind were simply shrugging and saying 'well, it's about damn time we died.' Then her body snapped back awake and it was not as ambivalent about the situation as her brain. Her lungs tightened unbearably and she flailed with her arms and legs, looking desperately up to where the air waited.

Someone grabbed her and she was hauled bodily to shore. It was Cale, she soon realized, who had snatched the back of her shirt and wrenched her from the water. She coughed up a lungful of the foul stuff, struggling to stand, to brace for another attack, anything useful. Her body was once again cursedly beyond her control.

She became aware that Five was standing on the island again, now in full control of the arrow, crouching in the sand and sending it whipping from target to target with alarming speed. It whizzed past Song's head and she felt the air from its passing brush her ear. She hauled in as mighty a lungful of air as she could manage, forcing herself to her feet. The asari had broken off the advance and gone to the right, to the island where Cale was started out. The humans, however, were determinedly moving in. They had more body armor than the people Blue Team had sent and Song's arrow wasn't working nearly as well on them.

“I don't want to kill them!” She heard Five pant beside her.

She gritted her teeth, “If you have to, you have to,” she answered fiercely, glad to find her voice. The arrow zipped by again, aiming for a man who had swum around to the back of their platform and was trying to sneak on.

“We can do this,” Song snarled, joining Cale at the shore of their island and kicking wildly at one of the swimmers who drew too near.

Beside Song, Cale yelped as one of the humans managed to get a blade into play and sliced the man's leg. Cale withdrew, ripping his medigel canister from his belt and turning the metal ring for the inject-able setting. Song danced back as the man with the blade drew closer, his expression murderous. “Five,” she said, unable to stop the quaver in her voice.

The arrow skimmed the sand and cut the man's cheek deeply. He yelped and thrashed as blood blossomed on his face. Cale returned to the fight, limping slightly, but ready. He crouched at the water's edge, grabbed the arm of a woman who was clamoring onto the platform, and wrenched her from the water before she could react. Cale twisted her arm behind her back then shoved her with all his force back into the water where she landed with a wide splash, face first. She floundered, hindering the progress of her teammates.

“Blue's back!” Five called, his voice high with panic.

A sharp pain distracted Song from seeing what the asari team was up to. She looked down at herself. A dagger was protruding from her stomach just above her hip bone. “Oh fuck,” she muttered, staggering backwards, staring at the object. The throw that had sent the dagger at her had been accurate, but not hard. The short blade had nor buried itself very far into her muscle. She reached for her medigel, then wondered if she should. The wound wasn't that bad and she might need the gel again in a few moments.

Seconds later Cale was sent hurtling from the platform and into the water by a blast of biotic blue. Song could only watch as Five went next, landing in the water behind Black Team. The arrow dropped and Song let out a little squeak of dismay as she watched it sink. She didn't have time to mourn the loss of their only weapon as a fresh surge of biotics came for her. Song rolled instinctively, managing to dodge, but bringing herself up to the water's edge. A woman looked up at her from the water, a machete clamped in her jaws. Immediately the woman splashed awkwardly, trying to grab her weapon to use it and stay afloat at the same time. Song angled herself, prone as she was, and kicked the woman in the face. To her horror Song saw that her blow had knocked the machete back as well, as woman had been trying to pull it from her mouth. Her jaw was sliced open like a cut of meat. The muscle peeled away from bone before Song's eyes and the woman gave a strangled sound and sank in a circle of spreading red.

Song rolled again, trying to get away from the water, desperately hoping her allies were alright. Several humans were trying to claw their way to shore. Song scrambled to her knees and crawled towards them. She didn't really have a plan. Her mind latched on to one thought. 'Get them off my island!' Two strong kicks from Song sent another man back into the water. Hot pain blossomed on her thigh and Song glanced at her leg to see a deep cut open and bleeding freely. A new attacker, blade drawn, had half his torso on the shore and sliced for Song again. She slammed the foot of her uninjured leg down on down on the flat of his blade and pinned it as firmly as she could, then balled her hand into an unpracticed fist and smashed it into his nose.

The man fell back taking his blade with him as Song rolled away. Her leg went from feeling hot to stinging with a sensation like ice being pressed to her skin. Sharp, cruel pain. The sand was slick with her blood and she knew she was bleeding too much. She lay on her back, choking on a few more breaths as she fumbled for her medigel, wondering if it would be enough.

BONG!

Her blood coated fingers slipped against the medigel canister as her hands and legs were suddenly snapped together by her magnetic cuffs. She screamed in pain and was certain someone had ripped her leg clean off. Blackness hovered at the corners of her vision like intruding smoke and she had just enough time to abstractly wonder what happened to anyone who was in the water when the cuffs were magnetized before she passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are not looking great for Song! What does happen to anyone in the water when the cuffs magnetize? And the most important question of all: what happened to their arrow?!
> 
> Fair warning, I am going to try to get a chapter out next week, but my day job is very busy this time of year, so I might not succeed. I will almost certainly have a new chapter out for you the week after if nothing else.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Septimus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient, guys. Tomorrow is going to be busy for me, so you can have your chapter today. Happy Christmas, if you celebrate it. To everyone else: happy New Chapter Day!

Chapter 7  
Septimus

Song sat in soft grass looking up at a crystal blue sky flecked with pink and gold. There was a storm brooding in the east, but it wouldn't hit until that night when everyone was tucked away in their homes and beds. Nearby Asla was scuttling around and squealing with happiness. She hurried over to Song, her four little legs never still as she held out the insect she had just captured in her cupped hands. “Look!” she beamed. “I didn't even use biotics to catch it!”

Asla folded her legs neatly under her and sat down in the grass beside Song letting the bug crawl over her thumbless hands again and again. When the creature tried to fly away Asla caught it in a bubble of biotics and settled it back in place. Song felt a strange pang of dislike as she watched. For some reason she saw herself as the insect, unable to escape, pulled back and set on an endless and identical landscape forever. “Be careful with it, Asla,” Song warned. Saying the little girl's name sent a fresh stab of pain through Song's chest.

“Sing to me!” Asla let the insect fly away at last and Song heaved a sigh of relief.

“I- I don't sing any more. I told you.”

“That's silly.” Asla scooted closer and ran one of her hands idly over Song's thigh as though tracing some unseen image there.

Song relaxed and looked back up to the sky, knowing that any moment her young charge would announce that she was bored and demand to be entertained.

Asla lifted one of her legs, sharp as a dagger at the end, and plunged it into Song's leg above her knee. Blood exploded from the wound and Song screamed.

~~~~~

Song's eyes snapped open and she gasped as though breaking the surface of the water. Except she wasn't under water and she could breath easily. Her heart raced and she struggled to calm it as she also fought to figure out where she was. There was a large, rectangular light directly above her and it was blinding her. She blink furiously, turning her head right and left, tears running down her cheeks. Her head was all she could move, she realized. She was laying on what she guessed was a bed and her cuffs were magnetized to it. Her leg, the one she now remembered had been slashed in the arena, was throbbing mercilessly and her muscles were so weary she couldn't fight against her bonds if she wanted to.

“W-” she tried a word. Her mouth was dry and her voice gravelly. She cleared her throat, which came out more as a wheeze than anything else, raising her head slightly. This must be the medbay where the injured players were taken. Her leg wound must have been pretty bad. It throbbed dully, not letting her forget the injury, but easy enough to ignore.

A shadow moved towards her and it took a moment for her vision to clear so she could make out a salarian standing over her holding a datapad and wearing the trim white of the station slaves. It was difficult to tell male and female salarians apart, but she guessed this one was female. The salarian scowled, checked her datapad, reached over and adjusted a machine beside Song's bed, then met song's eyes with is dispassionate glare.

“What...happened?” Song managed, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton.

The salarian's thin lip curled. “Shut up, slave.”

Song bristled inwardly. She wanted to spit back 'you're a slave too!' But instead she fell back on instinct. She let her face go still and placid, uncaring. The salarian immediately stopped paying attention to her, though Song wasn't certain if that was because of her docile attitude or the medic's supreme indifference. Song glanced down at her arm, noting a needle taped there, no doubt tapped into a vein. The tube connecting the needle to the machine beside Song was deep crimson. I must be receiving blood. That's why I'm here.

Somewhere else in the medbay someone began yelling and thrashing. She knew it was futile to fight the cuffs, but someone was trying. If only the light above her wasn't so damned blinding. She tried to crane her neck to see, but couldn't “Hey!” The person shouted, “This hurts like a mother fucker! Give me something for it!” The voice had a distinct, turian flange.

“Shut up, slave! You've already had your allotted dose of pain killer!” The salarian medic marched away from Song who turned instead to examine her blood machine, wondering what else was being pumped into her veins.

Song's eyes went wide as she looked past the machine to see who was laying in the bed beside hers. The lanky turian. The one who had shot Cale and then pulled him out of a fight in the dining hall. He seemed to be awake and was strapped to his bed in a semi-upright position. Song knew that was how turian's slept as their head fringes and the bony ridge that protected their neck made it impossible for them to lay down as a human could. Song watched him for a moment, wondering what she should do, if anything. Curiosity got the better of her. Who knew when she would have another chance like this. “Hey,” she whispered. The turian didn't seem to notice her. “Pssssst!”

He turned his head, hawk-like features thrown into sharp relief by the lights. One side of his face was bandaged and she noted that the bandage went all the way down the side of his body and his arm. She also realized that he wasn't wearing anything but his underwear. A quick glance down at her own body confirmed that she too was naked except her small clothes. She tried not to blush, knowing that was one thing on her face she had very little control over.

One of the turian's eyes was bandaged over completely, but the other bored into her, intense as a laser. “What?”

Song fumbled for her words, running a cottony tongue over desert lips. The turian's expression softened slightly, his un-bandaged mandible loosening against his jaw. “What's your name?” It was the first question that popped into her head.

The turian paused as though he wasn't entirely certain of the answer. Song cocked an eyebrow, allowing her mask of passivity to slip. The turian almost gave her a wry smile, but winced when one side of his face wouldn't move with the rest, bandaged as it was. “I'm Septimus. Most people call me Long Shanks because of these,” he gestured with a flick of his slim fingers towards a leg. Song followed the gesture and took in his exceptionally long leg spurs.

“I'm Song. I'd shake your hand but-” she gingerly rattled her wrist against the cuff. Distantly she could still hear the other patient complaining and she wondered how many other people had been brought in. She remembered the woman she had fought in the arena. The way the blade has sliced the woman's jaw open like a fresh cut of meat. She closed her eyes, banishing the image.

“Career?” the turian asked, shaking her from her dark thoughts.

“You could tell by the name, couldn't you?” She let her lips quirk slightly.

“It did give you away. That, and I see how you behave in the dining hall. Your friend is the loud one who gets in all the fights. He was free before wasn't he?” Septimus didn't wait for an answer. “You and the salarian, you're quiet, do as your told. Careers.”

Song smirked faintly. Their plan was working. Everyone thought Song and Five were useless and obedient, only fighting when it was necessary to survive in the arena. “You're very observant,” she said.

“Hmmm,” the turian's brow lowered slightly. “Not so much, judging by that look you just gave me.”

Song cursed inwardly and settled her face back into a dull expression, vowing not to emote any further around this person. Still, she didn't turn away, she had questions. “Why did you hesitate so long to shoot me in the arena? And why did you pull Cale and me from that fight in the dining hall?”

The turian blinked at her with his good eye, “I...” he looked down. “It's stupid. My team would be furious if they knew how badly I faltered in the arena. A few of them saw me drag you from the fight and gave me a little 'talking to' after.” He paused, taking in a breath that rattled faintly with pain. Song wondered how bad his injuries were under those bandages. “I... I used to be on Yellow Team. I was... I was the only one left after they got wiped out. Green Team took me in because I'm turian, even if I am as freak. They also like my bow, which the game-makers allowed me to keep, as the rest of Yellow Team was dead.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” Song said, though she only let sympathy into her voice, her face remained expressionless.

“I guess I keep seeing you and your teammates running around as the new Yellow Team and I remember who I used to be.” Septimus, cast his eye up towards the ceiling.

Song paused, her heart juttering with an annoying pang of hope as she wondered if she should broach the subject that was on the tip of her tongue. Would the game-makers allow him to bring his bow back to Yellow Team? A new ally could be endlessly useful, but did she dare ask? What if he turned around a betrayed them? She needed Five and Cale's opinions on this. Instead she asked, “what happened to your team today in the arena? We were dealing with Blue and Black at the end, what happened to Green, Grey and Red?”

Septimus snorted with surprising amusement. “Red never left their islands. Krogan don't swim well. They can float a bit naturally, but with their short arms they... they flip over easily and can't right themselves.” Song could hear the stifled laughter in the turian's voice and she had to fight hard not to let a laugh free. The image of a bunch of the giant super-killers floating helplessly on their backs, bumping into one another and failing their too short arms was almost too much for her stoic mask to endure. Septimus managed to get control of his own amusement and pressed on. “Turians do alright in the water, though it does not come naturally to us. Still, we managed to reach the main island. Our goal was to take the big node and hold on to the one at our starting point. Red wasn't going to cap any other nodes, but no one was going to bother trying for theirs, so the krogan sat down to enjoy a day off at the beach.”

“What about Grey?” Song asked before she lost control and laughed aloud at the notion of krogan enjoying a picnic lunch.

“I'm sure you noticed with your own salarian, but those fuckers are good at swimming. They headed for the main island too and beat us there. It was just hunter tactics for a while in the jungle, with Blue and Black popping in to cause trouble. Between us and Grey we managed to beat the asari and humans back.”

“So they came to pester us,” Song filled in, giving Septimus a glare which he ignored.

“We gave the salarians too much time to settle in. When we made our final push for the main node they had rigged up explosives. That worked out really well for them.” Septimus flared his uninjured mandible expressively.

“Well, as you can see, we didn't fare too well against Blue and Black either.” Song's voice hitched faintly. She stubbornly refused to entertain the idea that Cale and Five were anything but alive and well. They had both had time to swim to safety after the asari had launched them into the water, she was sure of it.

“I wonder who got the most points,” Septimus mused.

“Oh us, for sure,” Song joked, surprising herself by her sudden levity. Maybe it was the painkillers. Her leg burned, but she wasn't screaming in agony so she assumed the medigel had gone to work, but perhaps there was more than medigel in her system. “We're ruthless, you know. Killing, maiming, we're deadly.”

“Well, the maiming is the fun part.”

Song hesitated, then realized that he was joking along with her. That was another side to him she hadn't expected. “You're not a career slave, are you?” She asked, changing the subject before the idea of maiming worked its way into her head. She wasn't in a hurry to picture her friends being dismembered..

Septimus shook his head slightly, then winced. “No. Not quite. I was in my early teens when I was taken. I was supposed to get my tattoos later that week in fact.” He heaved a sigh. “All that is a distant memory now.”

Song wondered how old he was now. It could be hard to tell with turians, especially if you weren't one. Septimus had the long limbed, lanky figure of a younger turian, but Song wasn't certain if that was just how him, complete with overlong spurs and crest. “Your tattoos?”

“Turians from the colonies are marked with tattoos to represent where they came from,” Septimus explained. “I never got one. I guess it's better this way. I can't look at my reflection and see a constant reminder of home.”

Song pondered for a moment “I have seen a few of Green Team with colored face tattoos. I guess I never thought much about what they were.” They both fell silent and Song wondered what she was expected to say. Clearing her still parched throat she rasped, “I'm sorry you were... taken from your people. You were old enough to remember them. When I try to think of a family all I see is my old masters. Or the other slaves in the compound teaching me my duties, showing me how to be the best I could be.” She tried to imagine the two humans who must have been her parents. Dark skin like hers, maybe with her straight nose or high brow. The people she imagined were never the same twice and she knew it wasn't a true memory.

Septimus turned his head fully and would have been staring at her with both eyes had one not been covered. Song looked away for a moment, the way she'd been trained Eye contact was a challenge, a threat, defiance. Song felt something harden inside her then and she raised her chin, meeting the turian's stare as firmly as he gave it. She was startled when she felt a little thrill in her chest. Did she like looking at Septimus? Perhaps he reminded her of her turian friends from home; Bright Eyes in particular, though she had had softer features and a gentler continence.

Before she could think better of it Song blurted, “I suppose you have friends and allies in Green, you couldn't leave them?” Immediately she bit down on her words. Idiot! It was Cale's job to jump the gun and say whatever was on his mind, not hers.

Septimus blinked at her in surprise, “You... you don't even know me. I could be a traitor trying to feel out Yellow Team for weaknesses.”

“There are three members in Yellow Team and we don't have any weapons or armor. I think you already know our weaknesses.” Song countered, her mind still thrumming with annoyance at herself. “What good would it possibly do to sabotage a team that is on the bottom of the heap? You'd do better to try to join Grey. They're the ones who keep fucking up everyone's plans.”

Septimus let out a little snort of laughter. “I like you, Song. You're very quick.”

'No, I'm not,' she wanted to say. 'I'm logical and methodical', but she couldn't very well claim that after she had all but invited the turian to join her team on a whim. She bit in the inside of her cheek and felt a little trickle of blood against her tongue. “Look, Septimus...”

His mandible flared slightly, “No, I understand. It would be a huge risk for me to leave Green. Turians place the good of the unit over the individual. Your unit is your family and your most important reason for everything you do. If I left them, and took my bow with me, they'd be... let's just say they'd be displeased.”

Song watched the turian for a moment, wishing she wasn't strapped to the bed. She wanted to finish the conversation and walk away, not be forced to continue to lay beside him. She didn't know what else to say, but her mouth began moving again before she caught herself. “So you might have rejoined Yellow otherwise?” There was a higher edge to her voice. What was that? Hope? Perhaps her drug addled brain was still working out how they were going to stay alive, and even one more team member might tip the scale in the arena.

A smile flashed across Septimus's face, even under the bandages. His eyes glinted with a clever light she found she was drawn to in spite of herself. “I just might have.”

Song let her head rest back against what passed for a pillow on her medical bed, realizing how sore her neck had become from trying to look at the turian beside her. Her mind was buzzing like a hive of enthusiastic bees. Maybe the situation wasn't impossible. Septimus, with his previous ties to Yellow Team, seemed the obvious choice if they were ever going to recruit, but how? He closed her eyes against the too bright light above her and let her mind go blissfully blank. It fell back on rehearsing her morning routine from home, like a comforting rhythm.

A few hours later the sour faced salarian nurse returned, checked a few things on Song's blood machine, then flipped a switch. “You're done.”

“I'm-?” Song managed blinking furiously. It seemed that Septimus had fallen asleep on his bed. Song's mouth was once again so dry her tongue felt cracked. Otherwise, though, she was feeling better. Her leg burned faintly, but the leaden weariness of blood loss had left her limbs.

The salarian did not stand on ceremony. Still looking about as excited as if Song had been a dead animal instead of a person, the medic slid the needle from Song's arm and pressed gauze to the spot to stem the bleeding. Then she tied the whole thing up with a too tight strip of bandage. “Keep that in place for several hours. If you bleed out in your quarters and no one realizes, it is not my fault,” she snapped.

“Right,” Song said, adding a nod to show how serious she was about not bleeding to death.

There was a snapping sound and Song realized that her cuffs had been demagnetized from the bed. She sat up cautiously, risking a glance at Septimus. He was awake again and watching her from a half lidded eye. She slid gingerly to the floor, careful of her leg, which did not seem ready to take her full weight. The muscles tightened and quivered as she tested them. She felt oddly exposed standing there in her underthings. More so than she had when she was on the bed, for no reason she could fathom. She was dangerously close to blushing again because she knew Septimus could see all of her now.

Another medic, a human identically clad in trim white, strode over carrying fresh clothes for Song. No one offered to help her get dressed so it was a clumsy affair and she kept her eyes cast down, partly out of habit and partly from embarrassment as she nearly tipped over twice trying to tug on her pants. The salarian somehow managed to look even more annoyed.

When Song had finished struggling into her clothes the medic made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Please follow the guard back to your barracks, slave.”

Song looked past Septimus' bed to a door which stood open. Flanking it were two turian guards which Song, realized with even more shame, had been watching her too. Standing between them was a batarian Song recognized. He blinked all four eyes at her, standing with arms folded in impatience. Song did her best to limp quickly over to him. She wished she could say one more thing to Septimus. Perhaps a 'goodbye' or 'I hope we both don't die next time in the arena', but she didn't dare. Instead she settled her calm mask even more tightly into place as cast her gaze to the floor. The guard gave a disinterested grunt as he ushered her into the hall, not even bothering to draw his baton.

As Song made her slow and somewhat painful way along she took the opportunity to memorize the route. The medbay was near the arena, not connected to the dining hall, but a path lead them down to the big hallway lined with barracks doors. She paused for half a second to catch a glimpse of the stars outside through the windows on the wall opposing her door. She could see one of the rings of the station moving slowly in a sort of orbit around the center, the arena. There were no transport shuttles to be seen this time and she wondered how often new slaves arrived.

The door to her room snapped open with its usual startling speed. For a moment her heart hitched in panic as she imagined a room without Cale and Five in it. But no. They were there. Both got to their feet the moment they heard the door and as soon as Song was shoved inside and the door shut behind her she was tackled by Cale in a bear hug.

The man wrapped her warmly in his arms, pinning hers at her sides in his enthusiasm, and Five walked over looking happy to see her, but nervous about the hug situation. Song was overcome with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears. It took every ounce of her will to fight it back. She hadn't cried in a long time. Not when her family had sold her to an uncertain fate, and not when that fate had turned out to be one filled with the constant threat of death. Why was something as simple as a strong hug sending her spiraling towards a sobbing fit? She decided it must have been the drugs still in her system as her two friends helped her, practically carrying her, to her bed. Five plopped down at her side as though it were the most natural place in the world for him to be, and Cale settled on the floor, crossing his legs and beaming up at her. He gently slapped her uninjured leg, “Way to not die!”

“Thanks,” she managed before she burst out into a jag of laughter. It seemed her emotions were determined to do something uncontrolled no matter how she fought against it. She decided laughter was better than tears and rolled with it. She managed to collect after a few moments and look at her two friends more seriously. Neither seemed injured. “What happened with the match? After I passed out and all? Who won?”

“You mean after you collapsed in a pool of your own blood and lay there like a landed fish?” Asked Cale.

“Yes. Then.”

“You know, that was really distressing for both of us. You probably shouldn't do that again,” Five nudged her shoulder with his, smiling weakly.

“You're one to talk. You already died once.” Song nudged back.

“And I cannot recommend it.”

Cale got the conversation back on track. “I think Black won overall, for most nodes capped at the end, but Grey got the central node.”

“Did we keep ours?” Song leaned forward, strangely excited at the notion of points finally coming their way.

“I think so, yeah,” Cale answered. “In our defense, we were a little distracted at the time trying to make sure you didn't die on the way back to the arena door. I even convinced ol' Ric to floor it when he drove us back in that boat thing.”

“That must have been a trick. He never does anything in a hurry.” Song mused.

“Oh, I just batted my eyelashes. You know how I am.” Cale demonstrated, looking up at her through pale lashes and fluttering them dramatically.

“What happened to everyone in the water when their cuffs magnetized?” Song asked.

Cale raised his wrists, holding his cuffs together as though demonstrating. “They snapped together, but also turned into flotation devices. People just did their best to hold themselves above the surface until they were picked up. Looked like piece of driftwood bobbing around.”

“Like what?” Five tilted his head.

“Never mind,” Cale waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, we were a little freaked out about you, so I don't know how many points we got, but I'm sure we can ask Ric at breakfast.”

“I missed dinner?” Song sulked.

“Afraid so.” Five looked upset. “That seems like a bad practice. Someone nearly bleeds to death and you don't even feed them?”

Song wondered about Septimus. How long would he be recovering in the medbay, ignored and unfed? The turian's sharp features and intense stare flooded her thoughts and she snapped her fingers, “Oh! I should tell you! I found something out while I was in the medbay and I may have made us some kind of alliance!”

 

Here's a lovely picture of the friends hanging out when Song gets back from the medbay!  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alliance? Is it possible? Maybe our little team can finally start getting some new members! Oooooo yeah!


	8. Allies

Chapter 8  
Allies

“You think this turian friend of yours isn't going to cause trouble for us?” Cale asked looking up at Song with uncertainty written on his expressive features.

“I went over all the reason why he would when I talked with him. None of them made sense,” Song said, leaning back, the wall cool against her skin, even through her shirt. “Why sabotage a team as shitty as ours?”

“For kicks?” Cale began doing his evening sitting stretches, extending one leg and reaching for his toes. He was already getting more flexible.

“He wouldn't join us though?” Five asked, watching Cale for a moment before standing up to accompany him. It went without saying that Song would not be joining in that evening's stretching routine.

“Not at the moment. Too many ties in Green. Still...” Song mused. “I think he might be persuaded, given time.”

“Damn, Song, you can persuade people?” Cale's mouth quirked into a playful smile. “I thought all you had in your tool belt was stoicism and being the resident pessimist.”

Song made to kick at her friend, forgetting her leg. The muscles protested at once, tightening into a knot like a charlie horse. She spent several moments gritting her teeth and clasping her hand over her thigh until the pain eased. Neither Cale nor Five made a fuss over her and she was glad of it. She was happy to sit back and watch them stretch as they recounted the day, looking forward to a week without the arena.

“Five, why didn't you tell us you could swim so well?” Cale asked.

“It never came up before today. Not a lot of swimming required in space.”

“Got any more cool talents?”

“I can reach things down off of high shelves.”

A thought struck Song and she sat up slightly, “Does anyone know what happened to our arrow?”

“I...” Five hesitated, looking at the ceiling as he tried to recall. “I remember I lost it when those asari sent me flying, but as soon as I hit the water I reached for it again with my biotics. I think I accidentally pulled one of the humans under for a second as I fumbled around, but I found the arrow again, sitting on the bottom. Of course, then I got distracted because the gong to end the game went off and my cuffs snapped together and started floating, which made keeping the arrow even more difficult.”

“And someone else had to be the center of attention with a massively bleeding leg wound,” Cale pointed out, stretching an arm behind his head. Song heard his joints 'pop' faintly.

“Were either of you hurt?” Song asked, relieved that they had managed to keep their only weapon.

“Not bad. A few scratches here or there,” Cale waved a dismissive hand in her direction.

“A few bruises,” Five agreed calmly. He stretched to his full height, long arms extended above himself with fingers laced. He nearly touched the ceiling.

The friends chatted on, discussing possible allies, their ideas becoming wilder and wilder. Cale unfolded an elaborate scheme that would use Septimus as a double agent to sabotage Green Team from within. Five planned what he could do with all those arrows. “Forget using his bow!” He proclaimed, waving his hand and levitating Song's pillow for a few seconds before he lost it. “Imagine me with a whole quiver full of arrows aimed at our enemies!”

Song joined in with her scheme to convince everyone that she was the one with secret biotic powers. “We'll tell people that I'm mind controlling you two to do my bidding.”

“You must hate me then, because I get beat up all the time.” Cale grinned.

“Of course. I can't stand it when someone is prettier than me.”

“Oh stop, you're making me blush!” Cale plopped down on his bed, tucking his hands behind his head. As if on cue their lights went out. Song lay down, turning onto her side so she could see her friends by the faint glow of the table. Her leg throbbed bitterly as though upset she was not paying attention to it. She closed her eyes for a moment, dreading what she would find. As the talk had settled down images of the day were pushing themselves into her mind. Water all around her, flesh falling away from bone, someone screaming as they died. She saw, projected in full color on the backs of her eyelids, her own body suspended in water, struggling futilely to reach the surface. She opened her eyes again and stared at the table, hearing the gentle sounds of her friends' sleep breathing. This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~

“Look,” Cale jabbed her a bit too hard in the ribs. The hallway to the dining hall was crowded as ever and he was walking too close. Ignoring her 'oof' of pain the man pointed and she followed his gesture to the big windows looking out into space.

“Slave transport,” Five hissed, large eyes narrowing. “That one's a Class Eight. I hated those. Like rattling around in a tin can in space. Big cargo holds, no passenger restrains. They're meant for hauling supplies not living creatures, but who cares when you're just a salarian?” Five's bitter tirade was cut off when one of the guards glared at him and smacked his baton meaningfully against his palm.

“It's docking with the station,” Song pointed out, keeping her voice low as she was shunted along with the crowd. Behind her she heard the krogan causing trouble, but she was getting used to the morning trek for food and hardly noticed the noise and press of people. It was easier to forget when she was flanked by Five and Cale.

“New slaves, do you suppose?” Cale asked.

“Or supplies,” Five said, dipping his head to speak to them more quietly. “Like I said, Class Eights were designed for long haul transportation of goods through the galaxy.” When both his friends gave him confused looks he rolled his eyes, “I had nothing to do all day but listen to my slavers talk. I had a couple who liked to chat about ships, alright?”

“Cale?” Song asked, “you know ships too, you're a pilot.”

“That's a batarian vessel. Never flew one. That one looks like a piece of shit.”

Song squinted, taking in the squat, rectangular ship with graffiti splashed on its side. She was glad she'd never had to rattle around in something like that as it docked clumsily with the station. How soon would they find out if there were new slaves inside? Those slaves would be lucky. She and her teammates had been marched straight into the arena the day after they had arrived. Did the slavers have instructions of when to bring in slaves or did they come any time?

Their view was cut off as the current of guards and teams pulled them along into the dining hall and Song had to focus on getting her foot and not having it knocked from her grasp. She tried to catch a glimpse of Septimus, but the crowds were too thick and everyone was in a good mood, celebrating surviving another day in the arena. Still, Song knew that not everyone had made it out. She didn't think the woman she had struck in the face had managed to keep swimming. She tried not to think about it as she elbowed her way from the throng with her tray and settled at the quiet of Yellow Table.

Once Cale and Five joined her and she was certain they were unhurt by their adventures in breakfast fetching, she settled in to eat in silence, letting her face become expressionless as always. It was so easy she didn't need to think about it. Before long Ric sauntered over, tapping his baton against his hand and chewing his ever present gum. He rested his butt against their table to look out at the room, cocking an eyebrow towards the krogan and their raised voices. The giants tussled briefly before guards swarmed in and broke it up. Ric didn't even bother heading in that direction.

Song yawned, hiding it poorly behind her hand. Even though she was especially hungry after missing dinner the night before, but she was dragging from lack of sleep as well. Her night had not been peaceful, her dreams only bringing her memories of water and blood. She was ready to doze in her protein paste and was looking forward to a nap later when Ric turned around, satisfied that the scuffle was handled. His eyes were more bright and interested than Song had ever seen them.

“So,” Ric said, sheathing his baton with a flourish. “That was impressive yesterday! You capped a node, and with you being terrified of water,” he reached out and nudged Song's shoulder. She managed not to flinch, though her skin tingled where the guard had touched her and she had the urge to wipe it clean. “You earned some points! That's big for you! With those you get to decide if you want weapons and armor, or maybe to spend some time training this week.”

“That's right,” Cale sat up straighter, falling into his role as easily as Song had slipped on her placid mask. “We could actually get some training. It might be good to have someone able to instruct us so we're not always going into the arenas blind.”

“Not to mention you all could use some serious help with your hand to hand. I've seen you fight, Cale, and it's not great.” Ric smirked.

Cale made a show of looking embarrassed, shrugging and grinning his big, sloppy grin. Song blinked lazily at the guard. “How many points did we earn?”

“Oh, that's right, you passed out,” Ric leaned forward with his hands on the table. “You all earned yourself seventy five points. Not too shabby for a team like yours. That game was a good one for you. All you had to do was keep hold of your node.”

“All we had to do,” Five snorted quietly so only Song could hear. She met his eyes in agreement before looking back at her food.

“How many weapons could we buy with all those points?” Cale questioned, leaning on his elbows. Song could have sworn he was fluttering his lashes again. Some day she would have to get the man to teach her how to flirt. He would be a worthy teacher.

Ric whistled looking at the high, rust colored ceiling in thought, “Not a lot, but it could help you out, no question. To be honest it's a fucking miracle you three are still alive at all.” Song let herself chuckle in agreement. The guard wasn't wrong. She'd give just about anything to have some of that body armor and a proper weapon. “It's not like I have the list memorized or anything,” Ric went on. “You could probably get yourself a blade, or a couple knives. Maybe a piece of armor. That's about it to start. You could also afford one training session, I think.”

“Right,” Cale nodded. He scooped up a heap of protein paste and plopped it onto the fiber square, biting it with relish.

Song dug a piece of 'fiber' out of her back teeth and nearly smacked herself in the face as a shout startled her. There was another slave scuffle, this time at the human table, and the turians, who were next to them, had taken at interest. Ric heaved a sigh, pushing himself back from the table. “Duty calls.”

“Work work work,” Cale rolled his eyes.

Ric drew his baton, the electricity thrumming to life at the end. He practically strolled into the burgeoning fight, baton grasped loosely. Song watched the man curiously, turning in her seat to see. Black Team seemed to have fighting amongst themselves and a few of the turians were taunting them. The guards stepped in and as one of the turians struck. Song flinched involuntarily and moved closer to Five who was on her left. The salarian watched over the top of her head.

As Ric approached the fight his easy posture changed completely. He leaped into the fray, flaying left and right with his baton, distributing punishment indiscriminately. You either got out of his way, or got zapped. Cale cocked an eyebrow, turning back to his meal as the guards dealt with the turians and muttering, “I think there is something seriously wrong with that dude.”

“What's a 'Dude'?” Five squinted at Cale.

Cale waved off Five's question, “do you see what I see though?”

Song watched the fight for several minutes. The turians were soon overwhelmed by the guards and the humans slunk back to their table. The asari and krogan laughed smugly, enjoying the show. Grey Team seemed completely disinterested, even though they were right across the way from the turians. “What do you see?” She asked.

“All those guards focused on the fight and no one even looking this way. There are a lot of guards, but not enough. If someone made a big enough distraction, we could get our asses out of here.”

“That again?” Song stabbed what remained of her protein paste.

“That again,” Cale said. “That always. Don't you two want to get out of here?”

“More than anything, I just don't believe in building up false hope and expectations.” Song said.

Cale frowned. “Just because you don't have anyone or anything to go back to if you got out of here doesn't mean I have to want to stay.” Song's heart gave an unexpected sting of pain and Cale softened immediately. “God. Sorry. I'm a shit head.”

“Don't worry about it,” Song mumbled. Five leaned his shoulder against hers. He didn't have anything either, she knew. She tired to imagine where she would go if she escaped. To a human colony? To try to find parents or a family she had never seen. She was surprised by how aggressively she didn't want to meet those people. She had never been their daughter and that had never been her life. She wouldn't know how to live like a human anyway. Cale would run off to find his husband and leave her all on her own. Maybe Five would stick with her.

“Anyway, let's make a plan for those points. If we want to today we can get some training.” Cale said.

Song willingly latched on to the new subject. “Training would be great,” she agreed. “However, I think we should probably get our hands on some weapons before we learn how to use them.”

“Not that I don't love our little arrow,” agreed Five, “but I really don't like being the only one who is counted on to do the killing.”

Song thought about Five's reaction to blood in the past and couldn't blame the salarian for wanting to share that responsibility. “Right,” she agreed. “So can we plan on using our points to buy some gear this time?”

“Your wisdom is sound as usual, oh fearless leader,” Cale clasped his hands together and bowed. Song cuffed his arm.

“Stop that. You're so odd!”

“I take that as a compliment,” Cale smirked.

“That's how I meant it,” Song graced him with a brief flash of her own smile.

“Put your face away, you'll blow our cover,” Cale raised his hands in front of her as though trying to hide some horrific deformity and it was all Song could do not to laugh.

“You're both odd,” Five jabbed a fork in their direction. “Don't make me regret sitting here.”

“All this time and violence and that's what would make you walk away?” Cale snorted. “Someone alert the game makers!”

Ric wandered back over, arms crossed and baton sheathed once more. His lip was split and streaked with blood but he didn't seem to notice. Song relaxed her face back into her usual blank state and Cale grinned winningly at the guard, each falling back into their roles as easily as breathing.

~~~~

Back in their room the friends worked out, chatted and napped. Song took on a lighter routine, favoring her leg. It still twinged sharply from time to time, catching her by surprise, and the others scolded her when they saw her wince or flinch.

“I wish we had a way to prepare for the next arena day. I never expected water.” Song mused as she lay back on her bed, the sweat from her workout drying on her arms.

“What next? Flying islands?” Five asked. Salarians didn't seem to sweat, but if she stood beside him he did give off heat.

“They'll probablt just drop us off a cliff,” Cale said.

“If only it were that easy.” said Song.

The rest of the day was uneventful and soon they were shunted along to dinner. Song tried to peek out at the stars to see if any other ships were docking, but didn't see anything. The turian team was walking near them so she stole a glance at the tall, angular fighters. They moved in neat, military formation as always. Precise and cold. The humans walked in a group as well, but theirs was more fluid, constantly changing, but tightly knit. Black Team swept past without Green so much as breaking stride.

Song's searching eyes were finally rewarded by a glimpse of Septimus. He seemed fully recovered from his injuries, both his keen, green eyes were visible. She thought, for the briefest moment, that he'd caught her gaze before his head snapped forward again.

This time Cale had some trouble in the lunch line and caught an elbow to the jaw, nearly sending his food flying. Song managed to grab his arm and haul him clear before he could retaliate against the passing krogan who had clipped him. “There's stupid and there's stupid,” she hissed in his ear as he winced and massaged his jaw, letting her drag him.

Five met them at their table, plopping his tray down and beginning to speak before either human could settle. “I heard Grey Team talking! They say that a new crop of slaves is being brought into the dining hall tonight!”

Ignoring her food Song leaned forward on her elbows as Cale settled down beside her nursing his rapidly bruising jaw. “This should be something to see!” Song turned, craning her head towards the door farthest from their table. “I think most of the teams lost members in the last fight.”

“We were ignored when we came, for the most part,” Five pointed out.

“All the teams were full enough back then,” Cale said, grimacing as he prodded his face.

“I suppose we'll see, huh?” Song squinted into the throng of people still struggling to get dinner. She didn't think she saw any new faces. She watched the humans as they swarmed their table, noting that at least two of them were missing. Not that she had memorized everyone's faces, but she knew she was not seeing the woman that she had wounded in the arena. She hadn't been eager to check before, but knew they must have caused a few deaths. It wasn't fun to think about, but she found that she didn't feel as squeamish about it as Five at the thought of ending a life. She knew beyond a doubt that if she hadn't fought back that woman would have killed her.

“There!” Five pointed towards the door. He was sitting across from Cale and Song so he had a better view. “Those must be the newbies.”

Without a word Song and Cale joined Five on his side of the table. Sure enough, a small cluster of frightened looking slaves huddled near the entry door, prodded on by annoyed looking guards. “I see... three humans, a turian and... is that a drell?” Cale sat up, trying to see over the heads of the krogan team.

“Yeah, there's a drell,” Five confirmed.

Song tried to see, but couldn't get a good view. “What happening?” she demanded.

“The humans and turian are being ignored, like we were... the drell on the other hand, everyone seems pretty interested in him.”

“This should be interesting.” Ric joined them, leaning on the end of their table as usual. He was becoming such a fixture at their table that Song didn't even look up. “Green lost their drell a while back and Black's got killed in the last fight.”

“Why does everyone have a drell?” Cale asked, craning his neck. Even Song could see people beginning to get up from their tables and head over to the newcomers. She suspected the new humans and truian would naturally be absorbed into Black and Green Teams, but it was clear no one was worrying over them. Instead she caught flashes of green skin as the drell was surrounded. Guards moved in trying to 'encourage' the fighters to go back to their tables.

“Everyone wants a drell because of their memory thing.” Ric said, gesturing vaguely at his head.

Cale snapped his fingers. “Right. I've heard that. They have near perfect recall!”

“And you can imagine how useful that is in the arena,” Ric's brows lowered as he seemed to consider whether he wanted to intervene as the teams clustered around the newcomer. He appeared to decide that the rest of the guards had things under control and leaned casually against the table, gnawing doggedly on his gum.

“Is the drell even going to be able to get to the food?” Song asked.

“If she picks a team, sure.”

“She?”

“Yeah,” Ric examined his fingernails disinterestedly. “I saw them after they came in. The drell's a female. Doesn't matter of course, they can use their memory abilities same as the males. This one is pretty small though, and she's not a career. You should have seen her cowering- oops, wait, here she comes.”

Ric was right. The little, green skinned drell was making her way through the room, no food in hand, looking straight ahead. She seemed to be struggling to ignore the fighters that came forward, either pleading or threatening her to get her into their teams. Everyone, including Ric, gaped openly as the she strode purposefully over and plopped down at Yellow table. She sat and stared at her feet. The other teams stopped, staring and uncertain.

“Uhm... Miss,” Cale was the first to speak. “You probably don't understand, but there might still be time. Where you sit today determines your team in the arena and we're... we're not a good team to join.”

Song kicked Cale under the table.

“What?” he blustered. “Don't you wish someone had warned you when you first came here?”

“We need allies,” she hissed between clenched teeth.

The drell hadn't moved. She was still staring at the scarred tabletop, slender shoulders slumped. She did look very small. Song guessed she was only a little over five feet tall and couldn't have weighed much more than one hundred pounds. The drell's skin was forest green flecked with hints of lime, and her chin and throat were rusty red.

Ric looked amused, both eyebrows raised. He didn't seem to know if he should try to intervene or not, but a few of the other teams had drawn nearer, scowling, squaring their shoulders aggressively. One of the asari team even let a little biotic energy escape her and she was instantly slammed in the stomach by a baton. She doubled over with a moan and would have fallen if her teammates hadn't caught her.

The drell flinched, but didn't move or look up, clasping her hands hard in her lap. Song remembered when she had first come to the station. She too had been so overwhelmed it had led her to sit at the one empty table in the insane dining hall. If she had known then what she did now, would she still have sat there?

Cale tried again, his voice gentle. “I don't think you understand what you're about to do. If you sit here you're on our team. The three people you see here, we're it. We spend all our time just trying to survive. Hell, we barely do that. You're honestly much better off with another group. You probably still have time to go sit with some of them.”

The drell shook her head. Ric whistled, widening is eyes. “Someone's looking to get out of here the quick way. No offense.” He glanced at Yellow Team.

“None taken,” said Cale, his tone good-natured. Song could feel the tension in his shoulders beside her, and she knew he was less than amused by the guard's words. “She can always switch teams later, right?”

“If she survives the first day in the arena with you, yeah.” Ric agreed, leaning forward onto the table. “If the game makers okay it.”

Song couldn't help but think that would have been useful information to have when she was new. She knew it must have crossed all of their minds that they could decide to pick up their trays and go sit with a larger team. Just a word to the muu that wandered between the tables at least once per meal and Song and Cale could be sitting with the other humans. They might even be welcomed. Song wasn't certain why she found the idea distasteful. She and Cale would still be together and Five would probably do alright with Grey Team. They seemed to win quite a bit. Still, none of them had moved, or so much as mentioned it. There had never been a second of hesitation when they filled their trays and made their way to their table at the far end of the hall.

“Hey, do you know who these people are?” a turian voice cut through the general chatter and Song looked up. A tough, scarred face glared back. This turian had face tattoos etched in black across his predatory features. He was addressing the drell, ignoring the rest of Yellow Team. “These three, useless idiots are the worst team going, and it's a fucking miracle they still have all their limbs.”

True as this was, Song knew immediately that Cale wasn't going to let this stand. Her friend sprang to his feet, a snarl already curling lips much more accustomed to smiling. He made to move around the table to confront the turian, but Ric drew his baton and stepped coolly between. He didn't strike out, but Cale faltered. Song felt certain that the easy going Ric could turn violent on her friend in a heartbeat no matter how fond of him he was. Cale knew it too, and he made a show of blustering and shouting, “fuck you, bird face!” But he didn't try to get around Ric.

“If you join us we'll protect you,” Offered one of the turians, small eyes flashing. Her voice was gentler, more enticing. She stooped a bit, so as not to seem so imposing, though the effect was minimal.

No response from the drell.

“Don't listen to those lizards, you'll be safest with a krogan,” a deep, booming voice insisted. Song spotted the older, scarred male she had guessed to be the leader of Red Team, stepping forward alone. He was probably right to assume that more that one krogan approaching her would do nothing to entice the obviously fearful drell. “We already have one of your kind. You wouldn't be alone.”

“Hey! No sniping the drell!” A human complained. “What use could you have for two?”

“It would keep you from having one, idiot human.” A nearby salarian pointed out. Grey Team too had come to investigate, though they stood back looking disinterested. They did not have a drell of their own, but didn't seem concerned about needing one. Song supposed that the super intelligent salarians did not need someone with perfect memory. Between them they could probably do anything a drell could do without having to introduce a random factor to their unit.

“Fuck off!” The human barked, waving a fist in the direction of the Grey Team cluster.

“Alright, that's enough! Get back to your meals before we decide you aren't getting one!” One of the guards, a surly looking batarian, cracked his baton hard against a table. The other guards followed his lead, batons raised and swinging. With yelps of pain and anger the teams were dispersed. Song felt an instant relief flood her, as though someone had been clenching a fist around her chest and finally let go. She hadn't even realized that her unease was stemming from all the teams standing crowding so near Yellow's little sanctuary.

“So uh...” Five spoke up, addressing the drell. “I'm Five and this is Song and Cale. What's your name?”

The drell said nothing for a long moment, then, after Five shot uneasy glances at his two human friends and seemed ready to give up on his questions, she squeaked, “Rae.”

“Rae?” Cale leaned in to be certain he had heard. She nodded. Cale gave her his best, cocky grin, his teeth flashing dramatically, offset by the dark bruise on is jaw. “Welcome to Yellow Team, Rae!”

Song watched the drell for a long moment. “Do you want to try to get some food? We could go with you.” She wasn't certain that they would be allowed to approaching the serving area now that they had been sitting for so long, but maybe Ric would help them out. He had left them for the moment, lashing out left and right with his baton as though dealing in pain was the only thing that gave him joy. She shuddered at the way his bored expression only seemed to shift when he was committing violence.

Rae, still staring at the table surface as though memorizing every scar and stain, shook her head slightly.

“It'll be alright, I suppose, if you skip a meal today,” said Cale. “No arena today, so all you'll have to do all day is get to know your charming new teammates.”

Rae blinked her large eyes.

“Why-er, sorry, I probably shouldn't ask, but why did you sit here?” Five questioned, leaning forward and trying to look the newcomer in the face.

Rae blinked a few more times, then one of her hands appeared, pointing upwards. Song noticed that her middle and ring finger were fused, similar to the way an entire muu's hand was, though Rae had a thumb while the muu did not. Idly she wondered if the species could be related as she followed the drell's gesture up to the plaque on the wall above their table. Song hadn't given it a second thought since she had learned that it meant she was now a member of the doomed Yellow Team. “That? Why?”

“It's an impti.” The drell said. Her voice has a strange sound to it, like a gentler version of the turian flange. It wasn't unpleasant and it gave her voice a surprising depth Song hadn't expected.

“And what, pray tell, is an impti?” Cale asked, resting forward on his elbows and looking up at the plaque.

Song studied the creature painted in yellow. Like a tuck-rat from home, except it had a strange shell and was laying on its back, exposing its belly.

“An impti is an animal from Rakhana, the drell home world. I've only seen holos and vids about them. I think, in galaxy common, impti translates to 'poison...joke. Poison lie? Something like that.” Rae retracted her arm and clasped her hands together in her lap once more.

“Poison lie?” Cale cocked an eyebrow. “That sounds pleasant.”

“According to the vids,” Rae went on, still not looking up, “The impti would lay on its back to trick flying predators into thinking it was some other creature. Then, when the predator would swoop down, the impti would grab with its sharp claws and inject poison with special spines that grew out of its belly. Then the predator would become they prey.”

“Huh,” Cale looked up at the plaque again, brows raised. “Well, now that you say that, I don't suppose its such a bad mascot for us after all.”

Song wondered, as she finally remembered that she should eat the food on her tray instead of just moving it out of her way occasionally; how they would treat this new teammate. Would Rae decide, if she survived a day with them in the arena, that she liked another team better? What if Yellow Team had revealed all their secrets to her by then? They had almost a week. Could she pretend to be whipped and emotionless for all that time? Should she? Or should she trust this woman? Cale seemed enthusiastic, but then again he was enthusiastic about lots of things which were potentially bad ideas. Like trying to escape. She glanced sideways at Five and jumped when his dark eyes met hers immediately. He was having doubts as well. After all, this was why Septimus couldn't just join Yellow if he wanted to. Green would no doubt hunt him with a vengeance for fear he would tell Song's team their secrets.

“I suppose...” she whispered to Five, glancing towards Rae to make sure the drell did not seem to be paying attention. It was difficult to tell, but the room was noisy, so Song pressed on, “I suppose the muu find the potential for backstabbing and changing teams more entertaining.”

“I imagine so,” the salarian agreed. His large eyes were narrowed to suspicious slits, but he said nothing more.

Song let her mind roll over these thoughts as she finished her meal and shuffled along as their little team was returned to their room. A new bed for Rae had already appeared and Cale excitedly showed it to her as though it were far better than a slab of thick metal with a mattress pad on top and a pathetic pillow. Rae sat down on her bed, hands clasped, staring at the floor. Song and her friends watched her uncertainly for a moment. She did not move or respond to any of them.

“This... this may be a long week,” Cale said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't my favorite chapter I've written, but in my defense I was trying to write it over the holiday in a noisy, people filled house.


	9. Memory Locked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, I take some liberties with the drell memory thing. I think it works. ;)

Chapter 9  
Memory Locked

“So... Rae.. tell us about yourself?” Cale and the others sat staring at the new member of Team Yellow, none of them certain what they were supposed to do now. She didn't move a muscle except to blink, nor did she speak at all. Song felt sorry for her.

“Ric said she wasn't a career,” Song mused to Five, who had come over to sit beside her on her bed. His was the closest to Rae's and it was clear the salarian found her unnerving.

“Right, and I tend to agree with his assessment,” Five said, squinting at the drell again. He'd spent much of the previous twenty minutes staring at Rae as though she were a book written in a language he could almost read, but not quite.

While Song and Five clustered together to discuss the situation in low tones, Cale took the opposite approach, trying repeatedly to get an response from the drell. She ignored his every verbal effort and he didn't seem eager to touch her so he stood back, hand on chin, occasionally tossing out questions.

“She's probably just overwhelmed,” Five said as Cale tried asking what her favorite food was.

“Right. Like your first time in the arena,” Song agreed. Five's cheeks darkened to a dusky red with embarrassment and Song reassured her friend, “you had good reason to freak out like that.”

“If you hadn't snapped me out I wouldn't have survived,” Five said, glancing at Cale. “Maybe you should slap her.”

“I'm not going to slap her.”

“You had no problem slapping me.” Five folded his long arms and raised his chin.

“That's because I figured it would help. I don't know if hitting Rae is a good idea. We're not in the arena right now, we're not about to die. I think we have time.”

“Time for what?” Song asked. “We don't know what to do with a new teammate. We barely know what to do in the arena as it is without adding this wild card.”

“Hush.” Cale waved a hand in Song's direction. “Don't listen to her, Rae. She's the resident pessimist. She's in charge of thinking up anything bad that could happen, then informing us so everyone can be miserable.” Song crossed her arms over her chest and let her face go blank. Cale watched her then grinned lopsidedly. “Also, she can turn her face off. It's a gift.”

Rae blinked slowly, staring at her clasped hands in her lap as though they held the secrets to the universe. Song wished she'd share.

Cale heaved a sigh and walked back over to his bed, flopping down with a grunt of frustration. “Well, should we just go about our usual day?” he asked.

Song glared at Rae and wondered if the drell might be a spy, secretly gathering information about what Yellow Team did all day. Would it do any harm if Rae reported that Song and friends worked out every day? She couldn't think of any way that could be used against them so she shrugged, “I don't see why not.”

“You're welcome to join us, Rae,” Cale offered, holding out a hand towards her. The gesture was met with more silence and stillness so he flashed a brief smile and turned to his friends. They all slipped into their routine. Both Song and Five were already feeling stronger, even after a week. Cale too was becoming more flexible thanks to Song's stretching regimen. As they worked Rae sat where she was as though she were completely alone.

When the door snapped open at dinner time and the two guards stepped inside, Rae didn't flinch. She also didn't move as the other members of Yellow Team headed for the door. Before Cale even had a chance to sass the guards, the turian, Mordo, drew his baton and pointed it at Rae. “Time to eat. Get moving.”

Rae didn't look up. Song's heart plummeted. Whatever Rae's issue was, she wasn't getting better.

Mordo flipped his baton around and marched into the room to prod Rae on the shoulder with the butt, which Song had to admit was nice of him. He could have just started with a zap. Cale hesitated, turning back. “Come on, Rae. Let's go,” he said, his tone firmer than it had been before.

Rae didn't move. Mordo grimaced, mandibles tight against his jaw. “I've seen a few go this way. Come on. Up!” He snapped, flipping his baton back around he jabbed it against Rae's arm.

The drell let out a gasp of pain and moved away from the guard, seeming to wake slightly from whatever world she was lost in. “Hey!” Cale moved to stand between the guard and Rae.

“Get back!” Mordo did not hesitate with the electricity when it came to Cale. He jabbed the baton into the slave's side and Cale snarled, doubling over and moving away. “Come on, Rae,” he managed between clenched teeth, reaching towards her.

Song's heart was beating too fast again, but she kept her face still as ever. How far would Cale take his misguided protection of the young drell? It was one thing when he talked back to the guards as part of their scheme to make him seem like a trouble maker, but this time he was giving away his kindness and Song hated it. Kindness in this world could only be rewarded with pain. She had to fight hard to keep her head down as she and Five stood beside the batarian guard, who looked bemused. He ignored the salarian and human as he watched Mordo deal with Rae and Cale.

“Get out of the way,” Mordo warned Cale, baton aimed at the man's chest now. “Move it.”

Cale hesitated for a nerve wracking moment before he nodded and shuffled towards the door, hand clasped to his side. The guards had figured out that it was most painful to hit Cale where his old arrow wound had been and they didn't hesitate to use that knowledge. Song wished she could march over and grab Rae by the arm to haul the drell out the door, but she knew it would blow her cover. She felt Five tense beside her, but he too stayed where he was, silent and obedient as ever.

To everyone's surprise, when Mordo threatened with the baton again, Raw got to her feet and made her way towards the door and Song let out a breath of relief as the four of them made their way out of the room and into the crowded hallway. The walk to the dining hall and usual struggle to obtain their food was punctuated by glares from various other teams who seemed to have noticed that Yellow existed for the first time. Black Team surrounded the friends twice and had to be herded away by guards before things got violent.

“You're really popular now,” Ric chuckled as he strolled over to join Song and company at their table. He looked at Rae, who sat with her tray of food in front of her. She wasn't eating, but stared as blankly as ever. “What's the matter with her?”

“We don't know,” Cale admitted, massaging his side. “She's been like that.”

“Huh.” Ric leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of Rae's face. “That's going to be a problem in the arena. How long can a drell go without food?”

“I have no idea,” said Cale, concern creasing his brow. “Rae, kiddo, eat something huh?”

The drell made no effort to do any such thing. Song felt a spark of annoyance. Yellow Team was going to be harassed by the others and possibly killed in the arena all because of this new teammate they didn't ask for. She wished Septimus had been able to join them instead of this lump of a person. It was startling to realize how briefly her sympathy lasted. Whatever Rae was going through inside her own head, Song was already sick of it and she berated herself inwardly.

“Well, you've got a little less than a week to get her into shape,” Ric tapped the table absently with his knuckles.

“No hints yet what the next arena is going to look like?” Cale changed the subject, though he still watched Rae concernedly.

“Nope,” Ric shrugged. “Even us arena guards don't get told until the day of most of the time. Something different from last time, that's all I know. The muu don't like repetition.”

I could have told you that, Song thought sourly as she tucked into her food.

“Oh, you guys will never guess,” Ric's tone carried a hint of enthusiasm Song wasn't used to. “The cameras got some footage of you in the last fight and it's been shown on the highlights vids yesterday and today.”

“What?” Cale cocked an eyebrow.

“The game makers get to decide what footage gets shown during the actual live broadcast of The Game, but afterward they often broadcast highlights from other parts of the arena. I've seen clips of you three a couple times now.”

“Is that good?” Five asked.

Ric seemed startled that the salarian had spoken, but recovered quickly. “Yes and no. It means you might be the focus in later games.”

“Is there a benefit to being a popular team?” Cale leaned back, having already cleaned his tray.

“I don't know.” Ric chuckled wryly. “I've always been guard to Yellow Team.”

The friends continued their meal, Rae not touching hers, no matter how much Cale cajoled and coaxed. He even lifted up a forkful and brought it to the drell woman's lips. He didn't force the food into her mouth, setting the fork back down in dismay and looking sadly at Song and Five, neither of whom had any ideas to contribute.

As Cale and Ric chatted Song let her eyes drift around the bustling room once more, trying to take her mind off Rae's stubborn silence and refusal to eat. It didn't take long before her gaze was drawn to Green Team. At first she didn't see anything but the usual cluster of identical grey head-fringes, but then she caught a flash of green as Septimus turned to look at her. His look was such a fierce one that she took in a sharp breath. Luckily no one noticed and she chomped down on a gritty bite of her fiber square to disguise her embarrassment. She expected Septimus' gaze to be on her only for a moment, as usual. Instead he took a long look at both her, and her team. She wished he wasn't two tables away and across the wide path down the center of the room. What use was an ally you could never talk to? She flicked her eyes towards Cale as an idea struck her. Perhaps she could find a way to talk to Septimus after all.

~~~~

After a night identical to the last, complete with an unspeaking, non reactive Rae, Song caught Cale's arm as they made their way down the corridor for breakfast. “I need you to make a scene in the dining hall. Get people's attention. I think Septimus wants to talk to me and I don't want to be noticed.

Cale gave her a long, hard look. The bruise on his jaw was mostly yellow now, with just a touch of green and she hated asking her friend to put himself in harms way again, but she didn't want to miss a chance to get new information. “Maybe he'll be able to tell us something about what's wrong with Rae.” She shot a glance over Cale's shoulder towards the drell, who was walking silently along, not looking left or right, guided by Five.

“Alright,” Cale nodded firmly. “After all, what have we been building up these reputations for if not to use them?” He flexed his shoulders and cracked his neck dramatically.

Song touched his bicep, “Cale, be careful, alright? Don't go overboard.”

“That's the only way I know how to go,” Cale cocked one of his toothy grins her way, then sped up his pace to reach the lunchroom before she did. Green Team was walked ahead of them in their usual formation, and Cale inserted himself into it as soon as he could, aggressively shoving one of the rearmost turians, “Out of my way, scales! I'm hungry!”

Song had to hand it to Cale. He knew how to get people riled up in a hurry. Before she had time to think of what the rest of her plan might look like, Cale had a full fledged fight on his hands. One of the female turians, who had obviously taken a deep dislike to the human, was the most aggressive. Song even saw her bite at Cale. The guards poured in as the human team entered the lunchroom and stopped to watch the show. Song turned to Five and Rae “Get food and wait for us,” she said before slipped into the throng of humans surrounding the scuffle.

Several stomped toes and one firm elbow to her breast later, Song caught sight of Septimus, and he her. As soon as their eyes locked he drove his way through the crowd towards her, narrowly dodging a swing-happy guard who was zapping anyone in reach with his baton.

Septimus grabbed Song's upper arm so firmly it hurt, and yanked her out of the throng to a corner near the serving lines. He turned his body so as to completely block her from view and looked down at her. Song' heart gave a startling flutter for which she admonished herself immediately. Still, Septimus was standing incredible close to her. So much she could feel the heat off his body, though turian's were usually colder than humans. She could feel his gentle breath on her cheek as she looked up to meet his emerald gaze. “So,” she managed, more breathily than she intended.

“So,” he too seemed a bit tongue-tied and Song almost smiled.

Stay on track, she warned herself. “Our newest teammate, Rae. She's... she's not right. She's sick or something. Have you ever heard of anything like this?”

“Yeah,” Septimus gave his head a deliberate shake as though to clear it. “We had a drell for a while. He told us about something that happens to them sometimes. Blue team's drell was like that for a while. Practically catatonic. Wouldn't eat. Anyway, Lucky, that was our drell, he said that sometimes his people can become so traumatized by something that they sort of get... locked in a memory. I guess that was the best way he could explain it. Drell can remember everything that's happened to them in perfect detail, and they often find solace in those memories, but they can also retreat too far.”

“So how do we snap her out?” Song asked. A sound behind Septimus made him turn his head fractionally and she caught sight of a faint burn scar along his angular jaw.

“Lucky said something about getting the drell to share the memory. Maybe of the thing that traumatized her, or maybe just the memory she's locked herself into. I don't know, it wasn't clear.”

“How the hell do we-?”

“Hey, what are you doing in that corner, turian?!” A guard's voice. Septimus stiffened, clearly uncertain if he should move away from her, or continue to conceal her from view.

Seconds later the guard reached them and jabbed his baton into Septimus' side. The turian grunted and staggered. The guard, a human with rough features who Song knew usually watched over the krogan team, gaped at her. “Well, I'll be damned. You like humans, scaly? You know what that is? That's disgusting!” The man jabbed Septimus again and the turian went down, curling on the floor.

Song knew she should run. Just bolt and head for Yellow table before the guard realized she wasn't a member of Black Team. Instead she snatched at his outstretched wrist and without thinking brought her knee up, cracking the baton from his hand. The moment the baton hit the floor she knew she was in trouble. The guard punched her with his other hand, his fist colliding with her eye so hard that for several seconds all she saw was blackness and exploding colors like a fireworks.

“You little shit!” The guard roared in her ear, hand gripping the back of her neck like a claw. She shuddered as her vision seeped back. She's fallen to her knees and had a good view up Septimus who was staring at her, mouth slightly agape as though she had just unzipped her skin and turned out to be a krogan. To her surprise it wasn't fear that made her tremble in the guard's grasp, but a bubbling rage even she hadn't known was just beneath her calm surface. Her head pounded with pain, but she lashed out with her foot, surprised and gratified when she encountered one of the guard's kneecaps. As the man yelped and nearly fell, losing his grip on Song, another guard appeared and Song's entire side exploded with pain as she was treated to a blow from a baton.

Her muscles contracted violently as the electricity surged through her, then she sagged to the floor, her vision swimming. The guards dragged her up by her arms, propping her useless body upright. Her head lolled, but she wasn't quite unconscious. Septimus struggled to get to his feet too, somehow managing to look as contrite and frightened as Song usually tried to.

“Where'd she come from?” The guard who had zapped Song asked with obvious annoyance. “She's not Black Team, I don't recognize her.”

“I think she's that one from Yellow,” another guard chimed in and Song winced. In one fell swoop she had possibly undone all that she and Cale had worked towards. She'd been caught conspiring in a corner and then attacked a guard. She allowed herself to be dragged across the hall and deposited at her table without food. She didn't really care. The pain in her head was making her nauseated. Beside her Cale was already there with Five ministering to his nose, which was gushing blood. Never the less, her friend managed to smile winningly at her, though his front teeth were stained crimson. “Was it worth it?” he slurred.

“I hope so,” she said, her own voice barely a croak.

“Son. Of. A. Bitch.” Ric joined them, rocking back on his heels as he took in their sorry team. “Scoot over, Stretch, I got this one.” To Song's surprise Ric moved in and took over trying to stem the bleeding from Cale's nose. “I think you broke it, you big idiot.”

Five, relieved of that duty, turned his attention to Song. He gingerly took her chin in his long fingers and grimaced as he looked at her face, “What happened?”

“I just got caught on the wrong end of the fight,” Song said, shooting a glance at Ric which sent a fresh jab of pain exploding through her head. She'd tell her friends what she learned once they made it back to their room. At least things had settled down in the dining hall once more. The guards had restored order and no one gave a shit about Yellow Team's members, which suited her fine. These people saw enough fights that perhaps they wouldn't think anything of it after all. Maybe they'd assume Septimus had her cornered so he could attack her, or worse. This situation could still be salvaged.

The rest of the meal was predictably miserable. Song's head pounded, and no amount of Five fussing over her made a bit of difference. Her vision was blurry around the edges and her limbs felt oddly leaden. Cale's nose took ages to stop bleeding and he kept spitting out blood, both his eyes already beginning to bruise, but he still managed to look happy about it. Ric was downright sweet ministering to the slave, though Song couldn't shake the image of the guard charging into the fray and laying about with his baton with abject glee on his usually taciturn features.

Song glanced up at Rae, a little shot of pain slicing through her temple. The little drell sat still as a statue, seemingly not even noticing the troubles of her new teammates. Song gritted her teeth and she was uncertain if it was against the pain, or with supreme annoyance at Rae. Her blood was still up from her tussle with the guard and she fought back the desire to grab the drell by the shoulders and shake her.

With no food in her belly, and so dizzy that Five had to guide her along, Song made her way back to their room. She flopped down on her bed with a groan. The light above her was suddenly blinding, sending bright shards of pain through her head. She grabbed for her footlocker and yanked out her clean shirt, throwing it over her face to block out the light. She listened, in her dark little cave, to her friends moving around. Cale sitting on his own bed, and Five helping him mop up the blood that was still all over his face. Song had been unwilling to raise her throbbing head to look around her as they had made their way to the room, so she had not spotted Septimus to be certain he was alright. He had gotten himself in trouble to help her. Idly she remembered how bizarrely pleasant it had been to have him so near her. She admitted to herself that she had a soft spot for turians. Most would find humans undesirable, but for now she let her mind drift away to happy thoughts of turians she had known as well as a bright, impossible future.

“So, Song, what did the turian tell you?” Cale's voice, sounding a bit congested, woke her from her wanderings.

She pulled the shirt off her face fractionally and peered out with one eye. It took her foggy mind a few moments to collect those memories. Five looked concerned, striding over to her and kneeling down to look in her eyes. He clucked his tongue, frowning. “I don't suppose anyone would take you to the medbay?”

“Highly doubtful,” Cale answered. He looked a sorry sight indeed, with swollen nose and two black eyes. He needed a medbay just as much as she did, but he didn't complain. He even managed a roguish grin which she answered with her accustomed blank stare.

Five took the shirt off her head. “Hey!” She whined, grabbing feebly for it as he walked away. The salarian retreated to the bathroom, dampened the shirt with cold water, and returned to place it back over her face. The coolness was instantly relieving and she didn't even mind the droplets that slid down her cheeks and into her ears. “Hmmmm,” she mused, “that's not bad. Thanks, Five.”

“No problem,” the salarian sounded annoyed, but kept his complaints to himself.

“So the information? Tell me I didn't mess up my pretty face for nothing,” Cale prompted.

“Right.” Song told them everything Septimus had imparted, then fell silent, awaiting their response.

“I don't suppose he told you how to get her out of this 'memory lock' thing?” Asked Cale.

“Not exactly. He said we have to trigger the memory. Make her let go of it. Right now she's got a death grip on it or something, and it's keeping her away from reality.”

“Which is a problem because reality is where the food and enemies are,” Five said, taking long strides over to his own bed and sitting down, arms folded.

“You said it,” Cale agreed, looking curiously at Rae, still sitting on her bed where she had returned upon entering the room. It was as though she was walking in a dream. Well, Song supposed, she basically was. Cale moved to kneel in front of Rae. “Hello. It's me, Cale, remember?” He spoke as one might to a child, gentle and deliberate. “We want to help you. Can you tell us what you're feeling right now? I know you're lost somewhere in there. In that memory... is it a good memory? Are you remembering a time when you were happy?” His lips tightened, “or maybe you're remembering when they brought you here. That wasn't much fun for me either. Rae? You're safe with us... alright, I know it doesn't look like it, but you really are. Here in Yellow Team we take care of our own. That's why I let a very mean turian lady punch me in the nose. That's why Song pounced a guard like the secretly vicious rebel that she is.”

“You saw that?” Song blinked at her friend.

“You did what?” Five's brows rose.

Song squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn't pounce anyone. It was stupid. I let my temper get away from me and it shouldn't have happened.” Song said firmly, letting her face fall into its protective mask of indifference. She flopped the damp shirt back over her head.

“Anyway,” Cale pressed on, still speaking soothingly to Rae, “You're safe with us. We want to help you. Rae? Kiddo? Come on, please?”

Cale went on like that for the better part of an hour, pleading, cajoling, assuring the little drell that she was safe, which they all knew was a blatant lie, but that didn't matter. No results. Cale finally gave up and slunk back to his bed, draping himself dramatically over it with an exaggerated sigh. “She's a brick wall. I'll try again tomorrow. My nose is killing me. If I fucking sneeze I think my whole face might fall off.”

Song chuckled at this, then wished she hadn't as her own head protested. At least that pain was keeping her mind off the gentle burning in her side where the electric baton had struck her. She supposed it was her turn, since Cale got zapped so often. Still, she had been stupid to attack that guard. Moments later the lights in the room went out, leaving them in blessed, beautiful darkness.

~~~~

Song was wakened from a shallow, dreamless sleep. At first she didn't know why, or why there has a slightly damp shirt over her head, but it came back to her with a throbbing in her temple. She lay still, trying to find that elusive sleep once more when a voice caught her attention. It was Five. His tone was so low, so gentle she could barely make it out, but in the utter quiet of the room she was able to if she concentrated.

“Hello, Rae. It's me. Five. I hope... I hope you don't mind those humans too much. They're a bit... Well they're interesting. I never knew any humans personally before them. I didn't know what to expect, but those two have already saved my life at least once. I don't know if they're normal for humans. I feel like maybe they're not. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is; they're the first actual friends I've ever had. I thought I had friends before, but not like this.” He paused.

Song could hear everyone's gentle breathing and wished she was able to fall back asleep. She felt like she should not be listening to this, but listen she did. “I'm called Five because I was the fifth to be hatched in my clutch. The slavers bought my brothers and I, all fourteen of us, when we were still eggs in a vat of water. Clutches of all males, like us... well, we come cheap. Out here in the traverse I've heard people say “got a little spending money? Why not buy a salarian?” He chuckled faintly. “Anyway, like I said, I was born fifth. For a long time it was my brothers and me, shipped around to various auctions. Unwanted. Then, slowly, they started to get sold. Sometimes even in pairs. I envied the ones that got to go in groups. Eventually it was just my brother Eleven and me. Then it was just me. I've been alone since then. No one ever understood me like my brothers. No one ever will, I suppose.” There was another pause, then Five spoke in a louder voice, “I know you two are listening. It's a small cabin. I don't want any of your pity, alright?”

Neither Cale nor Song answered, but that seemed enough to satisfy Five. Song bit the inside of her cheek thinking of Five watching his siblings go one by one, leaving him the most unwanted of a group of unwanted people. Then he'd ultimately ended up in a death game to fight until he was inevitably killed, but he still managed to sound happy about finding friends.

A small sound wrenched Song from her rebellious thoughts. She pulled the shirt off her head and looked across the room to Rae's bed. The drell was sitting up, her large eyes open and blank, staring straight ahead. “Leena? Leena no!” her voice was reedy and desperate. She reached for someone who wasn't there.

Five looked terrified. “Is she having some kind of fit? What do we do?”

“No, wait,” Cale was up, tossing his thin blanket from himself, “I've seen this in a vid. Drell do this weird memory reliving thing. I forget what it's called, but maybe this is it!”

“Leena and I are alone in our little ship, we're lost. She looks at the star charts but she doesn't understand. Nothing but alien stars and empty black. Dots on the scanner scope. Then Leena hugs me and we cheer because a new image has appeared on the scanner and we're saved! Someone found us!” Rae paused taking in a long, rasping breath before plunging on, barely hesitating between sentences. “The batarians disable our engines. We're dead in space and Leena is hugging me again, but not out of joy this time. We're both crying. I can feel her heart against me she's holding me so tight and it's like a thunderclap with every beat. The batarians board and they grab us. Rough hands like sandpaper. They haul us apart! Leena NO! Don't fight, Leena! Don't fight! Leena fights them. She was always the brave one. I see the flash, I feel the heat from the gun. Screaming, screaming in my head and they drag me away so I can't see her. Can't see if my sister is alive! Leena! I bite my guard on the wrist and he hits me on the head twice.”

Rae stopped, panting, her eyes huge and her pupils reduced to pinpricks. Then she slumped back, caught by a very concerned looking Five. The drell began to sob, long and low. Strangled little sounds that made Song's own heart tighten. Five looked deeply uncomfortable as Rae tried to bury her face in his narrow chest.

“I've got her,” Cale took over for a grateful Five. The human wrapped Rae up in a hug and hushed her soothingly as she continued to sob. Five came to sit on Song's bed looking disquieted. She smiled at him, letting her placid mask fall away. “Good job, Five. I think you finally won us another ally.”

“I didn't even mean to,” Five admitted with a shrug, watching as Cale rocked the young drell as she wept. Song wondered how someone could have so many tears in them. “I was just happy to have another non-human to talk to.” He gave Song a sassy smile.

“Well, you still saved the day, Five,” Song planted a hand on top of his. “I think that counts as another victory.”

He smiled wanly down at her. “We'll take them where we can.”

 

Why am I so bad at drawing truians? Who knows. Here are Song and Septimus anyway:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, what a chapter! What are these new feelings Song has for Septimus? *eyebrow waggle*
> 
> There is a good chance that I will not be as timely with my chapters for the rest of Jan. I have another big writing project I am working on, plus my book which I am editing, so sadly this might fall by the wayside. We'll see. I'll likely get back on schedule in Feb. Thanks for reading and thanks in advance for your patience.


	10. Armed and Dangerous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all appreciate what I do for you. The internet at our house was butts s I had to leave my warm cave in search of better internet so I could post this. Thank you all for being patient with my inconsistent upload schedule. next week's chapter should be on time.

Chapter 10  
Armed and Dangerous

Once she stopped soaking the front of Cale's shirt with her tears, Rae finally looked up at the others, blinking her large eyes as though seeing them for the first time. “Do you know where you are?” Cale asked, releasing her from his hug.

“I-” she sniffled, wiping the tears from her cheeks with fierce swipes of her hands. She seemed suddenly embarrassed at her outburst. “A space station. I remember something about joining a team. Your team, but I don't know what for.”

“Oh fuck,” Groaned Song leaning against the wall and looking to the ceiling as though it might hold some answers. “You're not going to be happy when you find out why you're here.”

“We'll explain it again,” said Cale, “but you have to try not to get memory locked, alright? The situation we're in... and now that you're in... it's not pleasant.”

Rae's mouth tightened in a hard line. She had full lips, which strangely contrasted her reptile-like features. “Why am I here?” she demanded so firmly that Song raised her eyebrows.

Cale sighed, then cleared his throat, not eager to begin. Song found that she too was unwilling to launch into an explanation of the place where they were supposed to live out the rest of their short lives before inevitable, painful death. Her hands balled into fists as she thought of the game makers, strutting between the tables looking over the teams as though they were specially bred fighting animals and not people. She shot a glance at Five who was looking at the floor, clearly as unenthusiastic about the task as any of them. It was Cale who finally managed to begin, spreading his arms to gesture at the room around them. “Allow me to officially welcome you, Rae, to the Transmishere...”

~~~~~

“We're expected to fight them?” Rae asked as she was led to Yellow table by Song and Cale. The drell gestured with a nod towards the krogan team.

“Expected, maybe,” Five, who was already seated, said with a shrug. “We haven't tried. Usually we do our best to stay alive and only worry about the other teams when they show up to give us trouble.”

“How often does that happen?” Rae asked, still craning her neck and gawking at the hulking aliens. Song grimaced as she massaged a bruise forming on her ribs. She and Cale had done their best to run interference for their newest, smallest, teammate, and it had not been easy. Black Team was especially bitter, and assaulted Song and Cale with words when there were too many guards on watch for them to use their fists.

It was worse today because Rae had so obviously snapped out of her catatonia (even their guards had commented on it) and both Cale and Song were still sore from their previous injuries. Song was glad that her head had settling for a dull, if insistent throbbing, but Cale looked miserable when he wasn't putting on a show for those around him. The bridge of his nose was swollen and his eyes were set in two dark pits of bruised skin. He ate painfully, flanked protectively by Five and Song. Rae sat across from them so she could look over the other teams.

“They're all so angry with you for taking me on your team.” Rae observed, frowning as dirty looks were sent her direction every few minutes.

“You chose to sit here, remember?” Song grouched. Now that she was eating and looking about her, the drell seemed almost insulting healthy and wakeful. As though she hadn't spent half her night in a waking coma and the other half sobbing her eyes out.

“I remember a little,” Rae admitted. “It's really strange not to have a clear memory of something,” she closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly as though trying to knock something loose. “Drell don't normally have memory gaps.”

“There were extenuating circumstances,” Cale reassured her.

“So,” Rae leaned forward on her elbows, conspiratorially. “What's our escape plan?”

Song snorted, “what?”

Cale let our a barking laugh, then grimaced, clasping a hand over his nose. “Finally,” he rasped from behind his palm, “someone else who sees sense.”

“Of course we would finally get a new ally and she's as crazy as you,” Song rolled her eyes, then fixed them on Cale in warning. They still had no idea of Rae's loyalty. She sincerely hoped that her friend got the message to keep his mouth shut as she glared.

He must have understood because the man said nothing more on the subject, refocusing on his food. Song turned her gaze on the drell. “Look, Rae, no one escapes this place. Do you see all those guards? The ones that are everywhere? The one's that just live to zap us with their stun batons?”

“They ignore you,” Rae pointed from Song to Five with her fork.

Cale chuckled again, “she does pay attention. Sharp eyes on this one.”

Rae puffed out her narrow chest. “I have to pay attention. My sister and I are scavengers.”

Song pursed her lips, letting her annoyance show on her face. “How did you manage to get yourselves captured by slavers then, if you pay such good attention?”

It was Rae's turn to wear a sour expression. “We went after a big score my sister heard about on Omega. Some scummer of a salarian sold us bad charts and we got lost. We were almost out of food and water when the slavers found us. We were just excited to see anyone after weeks of nothing but stars and emptiness.” Rae's blinked hard a few times, her dark eyes shining with moisture. Song decided not to press further. As much as she found herself annoyed by Rae, she also didn't feel the need to remind the younger woman of her dead sibling and ruined life. Let Rae remember and scheme if it made her feel better. It made Cale feel better after all. To believe he was working towards something. Maybe, she realized as she poked at her protein paste, it made her feel better too. Otherwise why would she continue to put on her stoic mask every day? Observe the guards and the others teams for patterns in their movements? Maybe she was just as guilty of idiotic hope as her comrades.

“So, in the arena, we just need to survive?” Rae asked, wrinkling her nose.

Five sighed and explained the situation again, with Rae still obviously unwilling to believe it. “It's stupid.” The drell smacked the table with the flat of her hand. “People dying like this all so some other species can have something interesting to watch. I mean, what ever happened to good, old fashioned vids where the violence was staged?”

“The muu like reality better,” Song answered. “They're very literal sometimes and emotion fascinates them. They like to see the real, raw emotion of someone about to kill or die.”

“The muu are crazy,” Rae snapped, glancing around as though looking for one of the game makers so she could personally give them a piece of her mind. Song almost smiled at the unbroken spark that shone inside Rae. Around here that spark could get you killed, especially if you were stupid, but at the same time there was something oddly refreshing about seeing it.

Song's charitable mood didn't last long as Ric sauntered over, baton drawn, chewing casually on his gum.

“Well, I see someone is feeling better.” The guard stopped in his usual spot at the end of their table, taking them all in. “You ready for the arena, little lady?” He flipped his baton around and tucked the end under Rae's chin to raise it.

“No,” she shot back. “I want to see my sister and you can believe that the first chance I get to escape, I will!”

Ric burst out laughing, a sound which made the hair on the back of Song's neck stand up. She let her face fall into its usual blankness as she inwardly cursed that damned 'spark' inside Rae. Freedom made people into such idiots.

Ric got his laughter under control and smirked down at Rae, who flicked her head away from the baton and scowled as though she might spontaneously light the guard on fire with her eyes. At least she did not seem to be a biotic, Song mused. If she were she would not doubt have used her powers against a guard and gotten herself beaten half to death by now. Song knew there must be good reason that, as powerful as all of them were, Blue Team never tried to use their biotics outside the arena.

“So then, little one, you going to start tunneling out of your room? Maybe smuggle a fork from dinner and get digging? Did you forget perhaps that we're in space. Where do you think you're going to go?”

Rae jutted out her chin and Song considered kicking her shin under the table. “I'll steal a ship.”

“Will you?” Ric chortled. “Bless your heart, you could certainly try. All the ships are locked down, and the muu ships need biotics to fly them.”

Song noted a meaningful look that flashed between Cale and Five, which Ric didn't catch as he focused on Rae. “I'll figure something out.” Rae said, defiant as ever.

The guard soon grew bored of picking on Rae and chatted with Cale, who managed to put on his happy demeanor even if it hurt him. Song wanted to shout at the drell, who ate with a disgusted expression on her face, that if she really wanted to be a part of the team she had better straighten up and play the game like the rest of them.

~~~~~

Later, in their room, Song led the workout as Cale took the day off to relax and nurse his still painful nose. Rae watched Song and Five with slight amusement. “So you're just going to go along with it?” She asked, tucking her feet up under her as she perched on her bed.

“What?” Five glanced in her direction from his position on the floor, doing situps.

“You're going to get stronger so you have a better chance in their arena and that's fine with you? Playing right into what they want?”

“Trying to survive,” Song spat back, glowering. She allowed her mask to fall away completely for maximum glare potential.

Rae took in Song's expression with interest, “so you do feel things. I was starting to wonder. Going along with their plans and 'trying to survive' is just doing exactly what these muu creatures want. You should be trying to escape.”

“Be my guest,” Song shrugged as she knelt to hold Five's feet. “Molest the walls like Cale did when he first came here. I have a hard time imagining you overpowering a guard, but give it a try if you like.”

Rae folded her arms and slouched back against the wall. “Maybe you could prop open the door a little bit when the guards leave after dinner. Then you could pry it open after that.”

Cale propped himself up on his elbows, eyebrows raised. Song groaned, “Rae, don't get him all excited. The last time we wanted to do something we weren't allowed to do, which saved your scrawny ass by the way, Cale got his nose broken and I nearly got my face smashed in. If the guards caught us propping open a door they'd do far worse. To all of us. Not just the idiots who tried to escape.”

“You mean if you saw the chance you wouldn't make a run for it?” Rae's voice went high with disbelief.

Song switched places with Five for her round of situps. She laced her fingers behind her head and imagined herself charging down empty hallways, heading for the dock and waiting ships. There were no guards, no other prisoners to get in her way. She snorted, banishing the daydream. “If I saw my chance, sure, but I'm not leaving without the rest of my team. I can't imagine getting one person out, let alone four.”

“Four? I'm included?” Rae brightened.

“Seems that way,” Song grumbled. “In Yellow we take care of our own, even if they are idiots.”

“Otherwise they would have kicked me out a while ago, eh Song?” Cale asked, laying back down and aiming his flashing grin in her direction.

“Exactly,” Song wrinkled her nose playfully at him.

“If you're not so keen on escaping, why do you do bother with the act you put on?” Rae lowered her eyelids and examined her nails, feigning disinterest.

“Act?”

Rae sat forward, her eyes widening and her face going slack. Song might have panicked, but this was exactly how the drell had looked when she had snapped herself from her memory the night before. She spoke in an odd, too fast voice that seemed to spill from her lips unbidden. “Song and Five shuffle to the door with their heads down and its like the guards don't even see them. Cale cracks a joke at the turian's expense. 'Shut up you rodent!' the guard shouts and threatens with his pain stick. In the hall people push me, but Cale and Song aren't who they were when guards are watching. Cale doesn't make trouble and Song watches everyone like she's memorizing-”

“Alright stop.” Song snapped, sitting up so abruptly her abdomen jolted with a muscle spasm. “It's good that you're observant. That's the reason we want you on our team. You're going to pay attention in the arena and learn everything you can to help us survive, but keep what you see to yourself for the moment, understand?”

Rae blinked several times as though startled awake from a dream. Her eyes focused again and she frowned. “You're in charge, are you?”

“Yes,” said Five and Cale together.

Rae gaped at them both. “Her? Really.”

“Yes really,” Cale sat up again, his summer-sky eyes flashing.

Song's heart lifted as her friend stood up for her. It was like being home in the slave barracks. Everyone watched over everyone else. If someone had been called to do a particularly unpleasant or dangerous job they were given the best spot at dinner and exempted from barracks chores. It was the way things should be.

Rae seemed to have moved on from her disbelief in Song's leadership capabilities and come back around to escape plans. Song tried to tune her out as she and Five did wall squats. “We wouldn't need to escape in a ship,” Rae mused. “We could try to contact Counsel space.”

“Kiddo, this is Terminus, the counsel doesn't care what happens out here,” Cale said, closing his eyes and folding his hands over his chest.

“The counsel still wouldn't be happy about how many of its citizens are out here, enslaved against counsel law. I mean, we're all citizens right? I know there are human colonies in the traverse and those are still governed by the human Alliance and the counsel, right?” She gestured towards Song.

Song was about to rebut when it struck her that Rae was actually correct about her. Though she had worked outside counsel controlled space most of her life, she has been born on a human colony. She had no notion of how boundaries worked in space, but if this fabled 'counsel' really did care about her and her friends...

“I was born in space, probably somewhere in Terminus,” Five interjected.

“Who cares,” Rae waved off his concern. “The salarians have a seat on the counsel! Humans don't even have that yet. At least, not since I was back at the Citadel. We'll just say you were born in the traverse like Cale and Song and we're set.”

“I was born on earth,” Cale raised his hand slightly then let it flop back onto his chest, not opening his eyes.

“Even better!” Rae crowed eagerly. “So we contact the authorities and tell them all about the enslavement of protected species, including humans plucked from their home world-”

“I wasn't plucked-”

“That doesn't matter. Your records say you're from earth so you were unfairly stolen from your home!” Rae was getting properly excited now. She stood and began pacing the far end of the room. Song shook her head, but allowed that at least pacing was exercise. “So we get free, probably at night, and find a control room. Then we figure out how to send a communication back to counsel space...”

With some effort Song managed to let Rae's excited ramblings become a pleasant hum in the background as she and Five carried on with their work out. She knew that Rae's plots and schemes were even more ludicrous than anything Cale came up with. Perhaps if the little drell could get it out of her system if they allowed her to rant.

~~~~~

Rae did not get it out of her system. She was still tossing out wild ideas as the group was herded along from breakfast and into the arming hall to prepare for the arena. Song managed to ignore Rae as she clung to Cale's arm and asked a flurry of frightened questions about what was in store for them, in between bouts of escape plans, each more ludicrous than the last. It was clear that Rae had expected to be somehow rescued or have escaped before she was ever forced to set foot in the arena.

Song couldn't help but feel a distant prickle of excitement as Ric met them in their usual spot. This time she and her team would be able to purchase weapons or armor. She and Five had been going back and forth all morning about which they would prioritize.

Even Ric seemed pleased about their chance to arm themselves. At the first opportunity he waved over another white clad slave. “Yellow Team wants to buy some gear.” He announced enthusiastically, as though he had somehow shared a hand in their winnings.

The slave strode over and held out a data pad with the catalog on it. Song leaned in to peruse, almost bumping heads as her teammates also tried to see. The arena slave chuckled. “Settle down. Just have your leader make selections for the team.”

Song nearly took the pad, but flinched back at the last moment remembering that outwardly, Cale was in charge of their group. She shot a warning glare at Rae, knowing the drell would be tempted to spout the truth at anyone who would listen. Rae managed to keep her mouth shut, though Song suspected it was mostly from panic rather than good sense. Their newest member did not relinquish her death grip on Cale's muscular bicep as she looked around with eyes like twin moons. Song stood back to give Cale space. She trusted him to pick their gear. It wasn't as if the group had not discussed it in detail for the past two days.

As she rocked back on her heels Song idly scanned the crowd. Most were suiting up, pulling on armor and going over lists of weapons. Song wondered that no one turn on their guards once they were armed, but she supposed someone must have tried and failed at one time or another.

She caught a familiar flash of green and locked eyes with Septimus. Her heart gave an annoying little thrill as she wondered if he had been looking for her as well. He rewarded her a nod and his mandibles spread slightly in an almost-smile. He seemed to have recovered fully from his surprise at her willingness to attack a guard. Maybe he even liked it. Quickly she stamped down those pleasant musings as Septimus turned away again.

“Well,” Cale passed the datapad back to the waiting slave. “I couldn't get us much I'm afraid.”

“Oh?” Song returned her focus to her friend.

“I suppose one 'win' of sorts would not be enough to purchase us a proper arsenal,” Five said.

“It's still better than what we had,” Cale pointed out.

“I suppose that's true.” Song thought of their lonesome arrow.

“We couldn't afford body armor, but I got us each a blade, so that's something.” Cale explained as slaves began to weave through the crowd, passing out medigel and arms. The guards all drew their batons as Ric, who leaned against the wall, watched impassively, chewing his gum. “Five, I picked something special for you.”

A turian slave clad in clean white strode over to them carrying a tray with their medigel canisters, their arrow, and new weapons. The turian shot Ric a meaningful glare and the human pushed himself away from the wall and tried to look concerned about Yellow Team, putting on an unconvincing glower. Song might have smiled at his act if she had not already schooled her own features into their usual, collected stillness.

“That's right,” Song mused as she took her medigel, noting two extra canisters. “We keep what we didn't use last time.” She hefted the twin canisters. Five a second as well, though Cale had used his. Song wasn't certain if she was entirely glad she hadn't been able to administer her gel in the last fight. The memory of nearly bleeding to death was still fresh in her mind and she wasn't certain if having two gels now was worth it.

“These are ours,” Cale passed out three short swords, not much longer than Song's forearm. They came with poor quality sheaths which could be buckled to their belts.

Rae took hers with a look of mingled terror and disgust, holding the sword away from herself as though it might come alive and bite her. As if she was only now realizing what was expected of her, and of her inevitable fate.

“Oh for fuck's sake.” It was Ric who moved to the drell's side. He unceremoniously grabbed her waist and turned her, wrenching her remaining hand free from its grip on Cale. Rae squeaked in surprise and Song was startled by the twinge of sympathy that passed through her. She hated the sensation of a guard groping at her. Their touch sending its own, vile electricity shocking through her skin. She shuddered just to watch as she buckled her own sword at her hip.

Ric, who had replaced his baton in its sheath, fixed Rae's new blade to her side. He spoke firmly to her as he worked, grasping her hip and twisting her back to face him when she tried to pull away. Rae's lower lip trembled and her eyes grew watery, but she kept herself under control as she was manhandled. “You should be thankful you came into this team now, and they were willing to spend their hard earned points to get you a weapon,” Ric snapped as his fingers worked deftly at the buckles. “I'm growing fond of this team and if you're the one who gets them all killed, let's just say you won't be making a friend in me.”

Song's chest tightened at the way Ric talked about their deaths. His tone implied inevitability. It was only a matter of time before this new Yellow Team went the way of the last one. She swallowed and turned back to see what Cale had purchased for Five.

The man held up a slim bandolier with three daggers strapped in place, and slots for more. “We could only afford three. They were cheap.” Cale shrugged.

Five took the bandolier reverently, strapping it across his long torso from shoulder to hip. Song could tell he was fighting to keep his expression neutral. As bizarre as it seemed, he was clearly overjoyed with the purchase. Each dagger was only about as long as Song's middle finger and were darkyl tarnished and their hilts were almost as slim as the blades. Each looked deadly sharp and Song was already imagining Five using his biotics to send the objects hurtling into their foes. She almost felt sorry for the asari, so limited in their biotic ability. Only able to throw people around.

The time for envisioning the fight was over as they were moved along towards the open door of the arena and the reality of the fight. Song felt Five's slim fingers brush her palm, asking silent permission. She clasped his hand like a lifeline, imagining another arena filled with terrible water. Her heart was already racing and she heard Rae moan in dismay as she reattached herself to Cale like a tree sucker bug to a piece of bark.

This time the teams were taken into the arena in shifts rather than all at once. Yellow was saved until last. Song wondered if this was because they seemed the least likely to cause trouble as they waited. 

She watched the salarian team, which would be going out before Yellow. The lanky aliens all seemed so calm. Almost disinterested in what was happening to them. Song studied them intently, keeping her face as blank and expressionless as ever. While the the salarians were identical in body shape and build, their skin had the most variety of any of the species. Varying earth tones from browns to greens, complimented by brighter markings of yellows, reds and even blues. They reminded Song of little tree lizards from the jungles back home. The bright colors made them stand out and warned predators of their poison bite. These salarians might not be poisonous, but they were clearly getting used to their winning streak because they didn't even give Yellow Team a second glance. Not even Five, one of their own. Song chuckled inwardly as she thought of sweet, quiet Five standing in Grey's ranks. She was still holding his hand and he didn't pull away, even when they were made to wait.

“Alright, Yellow, let's go,” Ric pushed himself up from slouching against the wall. He'd even produced reading material from somewhere and had been completely ignoring the team he was supposed to be watching over. Grey Team's guards eyed Ric with disdain, but the man didn't seem to notice as he gestured his team onward, baton still sheathed.

Song saw Rae noticing this. The drell's hand slipped from around Cale's arm towards her blade. Song cleared her throat loudly, startling their newest teammate. Rae's hands darted back to grasp Cale's forearm again. Rae glared at Song, but she might as well have been glaring at a stone for all the reaction she received.

Entering the arena distracted Song from any thoughts of Rae and her potential mistakes. She craned her neck and looked up, letting out a low hum of interest. Well, there was no water. Instead the group stepped out the door and into the mouth of a narrow canyon. 20 ft walls of reddish stone towered on either side as Ric led the team along a narrow path. Song could still see that same fake sky above with the repeating clouds, but whoever had done the work on the walls had gone to a great deal of effort. Song reached out and brushed one with her fingertips, admiring the craftsmanship in spite of herself as she touched what felt like rough, dusty rock.

Soon the path diverged and Ric lead them down another branch. “It's a maze,” Cale mused. He leaned down to Rae. “Can you memorize the route we're taking?”

Rae gave him a look like he was a bit dim. “Of course,” she hissed, perhaps too loudly. If Ric noticed he didn't give any indication.

“What's this maze about?” Cale asked Ric, who strolled along as though he were enjoyed the walk. Song wondered if the taciturn man liked his brief time in the arenas. It was something to look at besides cold corridors and inky space.

Ric glanced over his shoulder at Yellow Team, cocking an eyebrow. “I'm not really supposed to say...but what the hell.” He shrugged, lead them down another forking path, then tilted his head back to take in the fake sky above. “Today's game is what's called a payload game. In the middle of this maze there's a 'payload'. It's a big old thing on wheels and a track. If one of your team has their hand on it, the payload moves down the track towards the finish line. Whichever team gets it across the line earns the biggest payoff in points for today.”

“Sounds easy for us to avoid,” Five mumbled to Song. The pair were no longer nervously clutching each other's hands, but still walked side by side behind Cale and Rae.

“I expect Red Team will go straight for it,” Ric mused as he guided them down another turning. “They'll count on their sheer size and strength to let them power through the other teams. I expect Grey will lay some kind of trap. Blue, well, they hate the krogan, so they'll probably dive in too. Black and Green... I don't know. If they have any sense they'll keep out of the main fight and look for an opportunity. You should too.”

No one answered the guard's foolish assertion. Song had every intention of keeping Yellow Team well out of the way of the conflict.

“I've also heard there will be 'Easter eggs,' to find,” Ric made air quotes with both hands.

“What?” Five asked.

“I don't know why they're called that. I think it was a human phrase the muu latched on to. Anyway, what they do is hide little treasures around the maze and if you touch one you earn a few points for your team.”

Ric stopped, indicated a dead end ahead of him. A circular widening of the canyon walls to accommodate the team. Their little starting pads shone yellow amongst the pebbles and sand. Song and the others marched dutifully to their pads without being told, but Rae hung back.

“Come on, girlie,” Ric rolled his eyes.

“Get on the pad, Rae,” Song said, her voice a low warning.

Rae's full lips tightened and her eyes narrowed.

“Rae...” Even Cale's tone was firm as the drell stood, indecisive, just ahead of Ric.

Rae whirled, whipping her blade from its sheath and slashing at Ric. She caught the startled man a shallow blow across the chest before he could draw his baton.

“Rae!” Song moved before either of her teammates. An alarm sounded the moment she stepped off the pad, but she ignored it, charging the drell. She slammed Rae to the side before Ric could jam his baton into the drell's stomach. Song planted her knee against Rae's sternum and pinned both her hands to the ground. The drell struggled futilely and swore.

“You little bitch!” Ric staggered back, baton loose in his grip, his other hand examining the fresh wound on his chest.

“You little IDIOT!” Song snarled in Rae's face. She outweighed and out-muscled the drell, and no amount of squirming could dislodge her.

More alarms sounded as Cale and Five stepped from their pads. Cale crossed to Ric's side, pulling aside his torn shirt to see the cut. Five squatted and plucked the sword from Rae's hand. “You've lost your weapon privileges,” He said, disdain clear in his voice.

Two more guards rushed in, batons drawn. They immediately pounced on Cale, pulling him away from Ric and jabbing him in the gut with their batons. Ric collected himself and waved them back, but not before Cale crumpled in a pained heap on the ground. “NO! Stop! I have this under control!” Ric shouted.

“Like hell you do,” The first newcomer gestured to Ric's bleeding chest.

“The little one attacked me, but Yellow Team saw to it,” Ric said, and Song was surprised by the protective tone in his voice. As though he were somehow part of their little family.

“Cale?” Song didn't move from her position on Rae's chest.

“I'm fine.” Cale managed to stick out at arm and give a thumbs up.

Five, having strapped Rae's sword to his own waist, moved to see to Cale and Song glared back down at Rae, who has stopped struggling for freedom and was now struggling to breath as Song's knee pressed hard against her sternum. Song wasn't gentle and she had no intention of letting up.

“Get back your pads, you're holding up the game!” One of the guards, a surly batarian, snarled.

The other guard took a medigel canister from his belt and injected Ric with it. He wagged the empty canister in front of Ric's face, mockingly, “You really should carry these. The slaves are dangerous and you're too trusting.”

Song risked a glance at Ric's face. She was surprised to meet no malice there. Instead he locked eyes with her and nodded. Was he thanking her? She had no idea what to do with that possibility.

As the batarian bore down on them, stun baton aglow, Song eased her weight off of Rae and, still grasping the drell's wrists, half dragged her to her starting pad. “Stay here or so help me next time I break one of your ribs,” Song snarled and she deposited Rae on her pad. She glanced at Five and Cale. Seeing that the salarian was able to adequately help their friend limp to his spot, Song returned to her own pad, the bleating alarm falling silent as she did so.

Ric stood straighter, the wound on his chest healed. He tugged distractedly at his ruined shirt and was clearly embarrassed that the other two guards had witnessed the situation. The batarian looked Song up and down in a way she didn't like, curling his lip. “Good little career, aren't you?”

Song said nothing, but let the anger fall away from her features until she knew her mask was completely restored The batarian seemed satisfied with this. He pointed his baton meaningfully at Rae, then headed for the exit, flanked by Ric and the third guard.

Song seethed, glowering at Rae as the disembodied voice boomed to life around them to explain the game. She could hear Cale's pained breathing as he managed to hold himself upright on his pad. Rae was looking at her feet and rubbing at her bruised breastbone.

“No points for wounds or kills.” It was Five's voice that finally snapped Song's attention back to the task.

“Hmm?” She looked up at her salarian friend.

Five pointed at the sky. “The game makers. They said there's no points for wounds or kills today. Only for those Easter egg thingies, and for winning with the payload.”

The light in the sky flashed on, red as a gleaming drop of blood.

“So if we want to earn any weapons training we're going to have to find some of those little treasure things Ric was talking about.” Song unconsciously glanced around and wondering what one looked like. Would she know one if she saw it?

The light turned yellow with it's usual 'BONG'.

“I suppose we do want those points, eh? No use standing around here until the match is over?” Five asked.

The pressure of choice struck Song like a blow to the chest and she blinked with the realization that the teams was looking to her to decide. It would be infinitely safer to stay tucked away in their little pocket of the maze, but out there... out there were points that they could have easily if luck was on their side. She fought back the nerves that were prickling under her skin, setting her jaw. “We'll go careful, alright? Any sign of trouble and we back out.”

Everyone nodded, except Rae who continued to glower at her feet.

'BONG!' The light turned green and Song stepped off her pad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Rae. Sorry this chapter isn't more action oriented, but we needed to spend time getting to know Rae. I thought she was going to be a bit of a timid character. Seems I was incorrect as she has a mind of her own and some bad ideas to boot.


	11. Choices

Chapter 11  
Choices

Cale grunted and dropped to a knee. “Damn. Those fuckers were liberal with the voltage.” He massage his ribs, grimacing.

“I think they're from the krogan team.” Song strode to Cale's side, kneeling to look him over. “Can you walk?”

“Give me a minute.” He waved her off, half shifting and half falling into a sitting position.

“Why?” Rae's voice was high and furious. “Why did you defend that guard?”

“That guard is our guard,” Five folded his long arms. “He's the only one we've been assigned in the arena, he trusts us, and we'd like to keep it that way. Not every war can be won with weapons.” He patted the blade he had taken from Rae.

“You like that guard?” Rae spat. “I mean, I understand why you pretend when we're in the dining hall, there are guards everywhere, but why not attack him when you have the chance?”

“You keep attacking him and we won't have any more chances,” Song countered. “They could assign us more guards, or different ones. What then? What if we get some of those zap happy psychos from Red Team?” She put her hand meaningfully on Cale's shoulder.

Rae's expression softened and she finally manage to look apologetic. “I... I'm sorry you got hurt, Cale.” She whispered.

“Don't do it again,” Cale said, though his tone was gentle. Gentler than Song thought Rae dissevered.

Rae pointed at Song. “You pounced on me like a wild animal. You're... you're a little bit dangerous. I suppose I'm glad we're on the same team, even if you did just attack me.”

Song blinked. A little bit dangerous? No one had ever called her that before, but since she'd come to the Transmisphere she'd attacked a guard and tackled a teammate, both times without pausing to think. Inwardly she chastised herself. As a leader she should be more deliberate, less 'dangerous'. Yet something small inside her glowed a bit brighter. That same 'something' that still chafed when guards pushed her around. The 'something' she thought to break in herself, even when she was a house slave. A shameful streak of defiance she thought she had stamped out completely.

“Alright,” Cale nodded decisively and grasped Song's forearm. “I think I'm ready. Let's go earn a few easy points.”

“Right. Easy points,” Song said, hauling Cale to his feet and supporting him as he swayed, then steadied himself. She said it as much to reassure herself as her team. Not knowing what they were looking for and wandering around a maze full of giant, murderers was not what she would classify as 'easy', but she kept that to herself.

“Can I have my sword back?” Rae asked. “I might need it.”

Five looked and Song, who frowned and shook her head fractionally. The salarian rested his hand on the sword hilt. “If we get into a situation when you do need it, I'll give it back to you.”

“But-”

“Shh!” Song snapped, whipping a finger up to her lips.

Rae's mouth snapped shut and she settled for glowering at everyone. Song watched the drell and wondered just how young Rae actually was. If she was bad at guessing salarian ages she was worse when it came to the drell. Rae was the first one she had ever seen up close. Certainly the girl had no chest to speak of, but Song had assumed that was because their newest member was more lizard-like than mammalian.

Cale limped past Song, heading out of their little clearing, followed closely by Rae. Five looked at Song. She nodded and fell in with her comrades. The canyon walls were so tall it felt more like they were walking in a tunnel. Song craned her neck, wondering if they could work together to boost someone to the top. Five followed her gaze and seemed to consider it was well. “I'm certain some teams will do it. The asari could launch their people up with biotics and no doubt the salarian team will have a plan to get up there.”

“We don't have a large enough team to risk some of us being stuck on top of the walls.” Song looked back to the ground again. “We might be able to put someone up there, but getting them down again...”

“We'll just wait for the asari team to come along and blast one of us back down,” Cale joked. They'd come to their first fork in the trail. Distantly Song could hear shouting, but it was very muffled and she couldn't even make out which species it might be.

“Which way?” Five asked Rae.

The drell pointed down the right hand path. “This will take us back towards where we came in. I don't suppose we could get out if we went that way?”

“I imagine they close us in,” Five said, amusement flashing on his features.

“So do we back track or go somewhere new?” Cale asked, peering down the path to their left. It looked identical to the one they had been following and Song was glad they had Rae with them, in spite of herself.

“I didn't see anything I would call 'special' when we came in. I don't know if they would hide any of those... what was it, easy eggs?” Song cocked an eyebrow.

“Easter eggs.” Cale corrected.

“Right. Those. They probably hid them better, further out in the maze. They're probably supposed to encourage timid teams like ours to get into the action, seeing as there aren't any points for wounds or kills this game.”

“Left it is,” Cale jabbed a finger into the air and marched comically on down his chosen route. The rest of them followed.

The walk was almost pleasant. Song relished stretching her legs and taking in some scenery besides the inside of their cell and the dining hall. Song even managed to enjoy the sky, poorly made as it was. They trailed down several more paths, stopped and doubled back at a dead end, and wove along slimmer passages where they had to go in single file.

“Look!” Cale pointed excitedly ahead. “I think that might be one of those Easter egg thingies!”

Song leaned to see past Cale's broad shoulders. Hovering a few inches off the ground was a fists sized, glowing sphere. Song grabbed Cale's arm before he could approach the object. “Wait. This could be a trap. We know that Grey Team sets bombs and mines, so let's be careful about this. Five-” she gestured the salarian forward.

Five understood her meaning. As everyone backed away again, Five coaxed one of his new daggers from its little sheath with his biotics. With a flick of his fingers and a grimace of concentration, he sent the dagger flitting towards the orb. He missed his target and the dagger 'tinked' again the stone wall and dropped to the dirt.

“Take your time,” Song encouraged her friend as he let out a frustrated sound.

Using both hands this time Five picked up the dagger, blue energy bubbling around it like foam around a pond stone. This time he artfully slipped it through the air and pressed the tip against the hovering orb. Nothing happened. Everyone stood tensely for several moments, Five holding the dagger in place, blade still touching the 'Easter egg'.

Song watched Rae out of the corner of her eye in case the drell decided that rushing in to touch the sphere might be a good idea, but she didn't move. The threat of possible explosives seemed enough to keep the young woman still. Song glanced at Five, who already looked drained from holding the dagger in one place for so long. She gestured for him to withdraw it, which he did, calling it back to himself so he could pluck it from the air and tuck it safely away in its sheath once more.

Song inched forward towards the orb. It hovered perhaps an inch above the ground and looked harmless enough. She squatted before it, wondering if any cameras were watching her team. She imagined the guards gathered around and screen and laughing at their caution. Steeling herself she touched the floating orb with her toe. It let out a little 'ping' and Song stifled a yelp as it shot straight into the air, vanishing.

Yellow Team stared dumbfounded at the spot where their 'treasure' had disappeared. “Alright then,” Five muttered. “I guess we just hope that means our points have been added.”

“What if I was supposed to touch it with my hand?” Song said, turning to her friends, baffled.

“Next one we find, we'll know what to do,” Cale reassured her, striding over and patting her on the shoulder before continuing on down the path.

~~~~~

Song and company did find two more such orbs, and each time they approached with caution and when they touched the objects they behaved the same way. Leaping into the air and disappearing completely. 

It had been so long since their team had heard anything of the others that it was almost possible to forget that they were stuck in a maze with anyone else.

“Hello, Yellow,” a new voice stopped the friends in their tracks.

Song looked up to see three members of Black Team standing atop the wall, grinning down at them.

“Nice day for a walk, isn't it?” Cale took the lead, waving, and flashing his winning smile.

None of the humans above looked inclined to attack Instead, one of the men knelt and offered them a greeting wave of his own. “Pity you can't get up here. Most of the teams have people on top of the walls.”

“We like it down here. It's cozy,” Cale responded amiably.

“Find anything good down there?”

“Nah. Dirt, dust, no krogan. Just the way we like it.”

“No krogan up here either,” The man said, pausing to glance around as if checking his own assertion before turning back to Yellow. “They didn't bother climbing, just headed out to find the payload. I can't really blame them. They're so damn heavy, imagine hoisting one of those fuckers on your shoulders. No thank you.”

“Hey, little drell.” One of the other humans, the only woman in the threesome, waved down at Rae. “How are these guys treating you? I know you have to stick with them for this round, but if you like, you can ask the game makers about switching teams after today. We're a good team. Lot's of people. You'd be safe-”

Before the woman could finish her sales pitch their third companion shouted “SHIT!”. The woman dropped to her belly, but the one who had been talking with Cale wasn't fast enough. An orb of blue energy smashed into him and launched him off his perch and into the trench. He smashed against the wall and nearly landed or Rae, who scurried clear with a shriek.

“Heavy!” The woman shouted and it took Song a second to realize that 'Heavy' was the name of the man who had been sent flying.

“We need to go!” The other man yelled and grabbed his companion by the collar of her shirt, yanking her to her feet. “If the asari are here it means we're close to the payload. Let's go!”

Another orb of blue biotic energy sailed over Yellow Team's heads, missing the humans above as they darted away. Cale rushed to the fallen man, crumpled in a pathetic heap at the base of the wall. Cale fumbled, seeking a pulse, then leaned back on his heels shaking his head. “I think he broke his neck.”

A sound above made Song flatten herself against the wall and the rest of her team followed her lead as five members of Blue Team, aided by their biotics, sailed over the gap, not even bothering to look down. When they reached the other side they ran on, as though they had just stepped over a crack in the path and not a nearly six foot chasm.

“Think they really found the payload?” Rae asked, her eyes widening.

“Maybe.” Five shrugged. “That's none of our concern as long as they leave us alone. “We're going to stay far away from that nonsense.

“Is he really dead?” Rae turned and stared at the lump of a man laying in the dust.

“Afraid so.” said Cale.

“I've never been up close to a dead person before. I thought... I thought it would be messier.” Rae inched nearer to the man, prodding his leg with her toe.

“There's plenty of chance for you to see messy dead people too,” Song marched past the drell and peered suspiciously down the path ahead. “Don't worry.”

“I wasn't going to do it, you know.” Rae said, hurrying to keep up as Yellow began to move on.

“Do what?” Song asked over her shoulder, not bothering to turn.

“I wasn't going to go join that human team. I think I'm fine here.”

Song wasn't certain how she felt about that. Certainly Rae's uncanny ability to remember every route in the maze was handy, but did Yellow really need a member who attacked guards and said whatever was in her head?

“What's that?” Rae, who was walking behind Song, grabbed her arm, pointing ahead of them where the path formed a T, branching sharply to the right and left.

“What's what?” Song asked, shrugging Rae's hand from her bicep.

“On the ground, what's that?” Rae pointed again, insistent.

“Another Easter Egg?” Cale craned his neck to see around the others.

Song squinted, expecting to spot a glint of gold light from another little orb. Instead her eyes widened. “Rails?”

“Looks like,” Cale moved carefully towards their find, crouching low as though expecting to be pounced from above. Song supposed his fear wasn't misplaced and she scanned the edges of the cliffs above for any sign of the human or asari teams. Everything was still. Eerily so as the same birds and clouds looped lazily across the familiar sky.

“Is this what the payload follows?” Rae moved to Cale's side, then squatted beside the tracks, running her hand gingerly over the raised metal rail.

“How does it work?” Five was intrigued. Song remembered that he would never have seen anything like this before. It was the trees all over again, though with much less panic.

As Cale explained, Song remembered back home where the laundry had been carried to the washroom in a special hamper that rattled along one, slim rail. Song too drew closer to the tracks, but when she scanned the twin metal rods, spanning away in both directions, her brows came together. “What's that?”

She crouched, reaching out and touching a splatter of liquid, dark against the metal. It was cool, but still damp and as she held her stained fingers up to the light she understood what she was seeing. “Blood,” she whispered.

“But it's blue,” Rae tilted her head and squinted at the smear of deep cobalt.

“Turian blood is blue.” Song dipped her fingers again, just to be certain. “This hasn't dried yet. I'd say it's recent.”

“More of it this way,” Five moved to the left, following the track. He frowned. “And some red.”

“Loads of species have red blood,” Cale pointed out, “Including drell.” He nudged Rae, who ignored him.

Five walked back to the right, checking for more splatter. “Not as much over here.”

“It's been quiet. Do you suppose there was a surprise attack?” Song asked, looking up at the high walls all around them. Nothing above but repetitive, blue sky. Two nondescript birds flapped tirelessly, their image looping as soon as they made it from horizon to horizon.

“These walls probably muffle the sound.” Cale drew his blade, standing watch over their escape route.

Song continued to step gingerly down the left path, tracking the spatters of blue and red. She noted something that looked like a drag mark in the red blood before it vanished. Perhaps someone was hauled to their feet to be carried by teammates.

“Should we go back?” Rae asked, hugging herself. She glanced around like an animal about to spook and flee.

“I... I don't know.” Song couldn't place the urge she felt to continue down this track. Perhaps it was the image that kept popping into her mind of Septimus, seriously injured and bleeding out. “We have an ally in the turian team.” She took a few more steps down the track. Septimus' intense green eyes flashed through her thoughts, unbidden.

“Is she insane?” Rae asked.

“Not usually,” Cale replied. “Usually she's the sane one.”

Maybe she was slipping, Song mused as she began to walk, still following the trail of blood, knowing her team was in tow. The thought struck her that she had a sword, and she fumbled it awkwardly from its sheath. As she did she shot a quick glance behind and was gratified to see that neither Five nor Cale seemed upset about her choice of path. Yet, anyway. If she was leading them right into the mouth of danger they'd soon change their tune.

Something shimmered up ahead and Song hesitated, eying the twinkling, golden glow suspiciously. Another egg? In the middle of the tracks? Perhaps they were placed randomly while the game was active, to encourage more movement and exploration.

There was still no sign of danger ahead, but the blood was ever present, and there was more of it. Song spotted a fresh scar on the wall where a bit of rock had been dislodged and lay in a messy pile. She wondered what sort of weapon could have gouged stone and didn't like to think of what it could do to flesh and bone. Humans were so soft and vulnerable she thought darkly as she slipped along, keeping to the wall. The path was starting to take a gradual turn and she couldn't see far down the track any longer, but the glowing object stood out directly in front of her.

It looked just like the ones the team had encountered before. A shimmering, golden sphere. Song stopped three feet from the object and allowed the rest of her team to gather around her. None of them looked pleased, even if they had just found another treasure. Song couldn't blame them. A deep feeling of foreboding had begun to creep over her. Some latent hunter-gatherer instinct that was flaring up and making her feel trapped. As though predatory eyes were on her and she was left without cover.

“Don't touch it.” Rae's voice was quavering, barely above a whisper. “There's something wrong about it.”

Five looked to Song, asking silently whether he should use a dagger to investigate. She shook her head fractionally, turning to Rae. “Wrong how?”

“It doesn't look right.” Rae scrunched up her face as though tasting something bitter. “I mean, it does look just like the other orbs, but see-” she pointed. “It's sitting on the ground, not hovering.”

Song swallowed, her grip on her weapons becoming deathly tight. If Rae was correct, then perhaps this new orb was a trap. Would it sense their movement? Was it the cause of all the blood? Her mind replayed the sound of explosions from the big island in their last game. How Septimus had been badly burned.

“Do we go back? Go around?” Cale's voice was hesitant.

Song opened her mouth to tell her team to retreat, but instead different words tumbled out. “We press on.”

No one complained, though Cale gave her a meaningful glance. He was willing to trust her, but hoped she had a good reason. She didn't have a good reason and inwardly kicked herself for letting instinct rather than reason push her. Yet, as she pressed herself against the wall and carefully skirted the shimmering orb as though it might shoot out deadly tentacles to stab her, she was drawn onward. By the blood, and by some twisted desire to see where it lead. Even if Septimus was not on the other end of the trail. She was beginning to recognize this new instinct and desire within her. The same one that made her kick a guard in the knee after she had already been beaten nearly to submission, or tackle to Rae to the ground.

Slowly Yellow Team rounded the bend in the path and Song jerked to a halt once more, Rae nearly smashing into her. There was a lot of blood now. Signs of a fight etched into rocks and smeared across the ground. Laying to one side of the track in a crumpled heap was a large figure.

“Oh fuck,” Cale exhaled, peering around Song's shoulder.

“It's a krogan,” Rae hissed.

“Yes, we can see that,” snapped Song.

This krogan was a massive specimen. Male, Song guessed by size alone. He was laying in a pool of what was almost certainly his own blood, though was also splattered with some turian blue.

“Is he... dead?” Five asked.

In answer to the salarian's question, the heap of krogan moved. Song had to bite back and yelp of surprise. Rae had less self control and squeaked, jumping to hide behind Cale. The krogan forced himself to a seated position, propped against the wall. His left leg was twisted in an impossible way and Song knew it was badly broken. He didn't look at them, but gazed straight ahead at the opposite wall. He let out a long, low chuckle. “So...” His voice was so deep and booming that Song felt it in her chest. “You didn't fall for the salarians' little bauble.”

No one answered, but the krogan didn't seem to mind. Song tried to collect her thoughts. The giant, injured as he was, did not seem nearly as threatening as the ones she saw parading around the dining hall in a predatory pack. She narrowed her eyes, taking in the krogan's whinkled and deeply scarred face. There were several sizable gouges in his boney head plate, which was sunset red with flashes of ashy black “Wait...” Song breathed. “I think... I think I know this one.”

“What?” Cale hissed back, both his eyebrows shooting skyward. “You been making more allies I didn't know about?”

“Not an ally. I've just seen him. He's usually near the middle of the pack in the dining hall. I thought... well I thought he was their leader.”

“She's a keen one,” The krogan said. He still did not turn to look at them but a weak smile crinkled his already creased features. His face reminded Song of that of a common bat species from back home. All folds and gouges.

“Are there more krogans around?” Rae asked, turning to Five. “Give me back my sword, Five! I'm not dying here in some crazy ambush!”

The slow, rolling laughter fell from the krogan's lips again. “I like this one too. Your females intrigue me. Do your males do anything but stand with mouths gaping?”

“Not usually.” Count on Cale to quip, even when a whole mass of angry giants could be preparing an assault that very moment.

“You're not about to be ambushed,” the krogan said making a great effort to sit up straighter. This failed he slouched back down with a resigned grunt. “At least not by Red. They're all off pushing the damn payload. I was too slow.”

“So they left you?” Song asked, stepping closer to the fallen creature in spite of herself.

“I told them to. I was slowing them down.”

Song crouched when she had positioned herself to look him straight in the face. He didn't meet her gaze. His eyes seemed off somehow. Not that Song spent a great deal of time gazing deeply into the eyes of Red Team members, but she could have sworn krogan eyes were usually brown, yellow, or even reddish. This one's were grey, filmed over and milky. He didn't look at her, but through her, unseeing. Blind. With this revelation Song's grip on her sword hilt relaxed. “What happened here?”

“Little skirmish,” The krogan shrugged. Song noted that he bore several deep cuts across his body. He wasn't even wearing armor. She wondered if any of Red Team bothered. This one didn't even seem overly bothered as his blood still dribbled freely from a gash above his hip. “Red Team has... or had, last I knew of it, the payload.” A little smile crept onto his face, revealing pointed incisors, though Song was amused to note that turian teeth were sharper. “Green came in. Thought they'd take it from us. Didn't. I think they're still following, but at a distance, waiting for an opening. Grey's been through. Left that little present you lot found. Smart, you not touching it.”

“So it was a trap?” Rae's eyes widened as a pleased expression flashed across her face.

“The salarians left you too?” Song asked.

“I'm no threat to them and kills don't gain any points this fight.” The krogan shrugged again. He paused and seemed to consider Song for a long moment. “I don't hear your voice much in the dining hall.” He tilted his head. “What are you called? Your voice sounds human, but you're not on Black Team. They would have rushed right by... actually, they would have grabbed that fake orb and found themselves in a little trouble,” he chuckled again, low and long. Like each exhalation of breath deserved its own moment of consideration.

“I'm called Song. We're Yellow Team.”

“Little Yellow. Still alive eh? Now that's impressive. You looking to win this game, Yellow?”

Song snorted with involuntary laughter, “We're looking to do what we usually do. Survive this game.”

“Fair enough,” the krogan dipped his dead. “They call me Brute.”

“Career then?” Song found it hard to imagine someone who would keep a krogan slave all his long life.

“One of the few,” Brute nodded slowly.

“Song, we should get a move on. Are we keeping on this path, because that seems a little dangerous to me.” Cale spoke up.

“Ah, the males do have some sense,” Brute rumbled, smiling again.

“We should probably turn back,” Song said, looking to her team. All of them bore their fear on their faces and Song's own features instinctively settled into her emotionless mask, though there was no reason to wear it.

“Wait.” Brute raised a hand, staying Song where she crouched. The krogan tilted his head, obviously listening. “You've wasted to much time on me. Blue's coming.”

“What?” Song rose abruptly from her crouch, her heart thundering into overdrive.

“You're stuck now, Yellow. Between a rock and the krogan.” Brute chuckled again. Song did not find the situation remotely funny.

“What do we do?” She asked, frustratedly addressing the air more than anyone else.

“Follow the payload. If you can lead the asari bitches into a fight with my team and those damn spike head turians, you might stand a chance of slipping away.”

“Fuck!” Song spat, looking back the way they had come. Was it her panicked imagination, or did she hear running footsteps echoing off the walls?

“Do we believe him?” Rae asked, looking nervously into the faces of her teammates in turn.

“I think we might have to,” Cale said, glancing over his shoulder. The running steps were already growing louder. There could be no mistaking them for imaginary any more.

As Song squinted down the path she caught a flash of neon blue. “It's the asari.” She tensed, holding her sword futilely before her.

“Killing us doesn't earn them any points,” Five pointed out, though he too grasped his sword, his free hand hovering over his chest to draw a dagger free.

“They murdered a human for no reason right in front of us!” Rae's eyes were locked on her own sword, still strapped to Five's side. “We could try to run back, but we know there aren't any side paths for ages. We'd be out in the open if any of Blue Team feels like adding to their kill count. There's a chance there will be a branch up ahead we can take.”

“We need to go!” Cale grabbed Song's arm and she snapped into motion. Her eyes lingered on Brute where he sat, injured and abandoned, as she ushered her people on towards the payload and the krogan team. He didn't even seem to mind. She wondered if he would bleed out there on the dusty path or if the asari would finish him off. She knew they didn't have time to wait and find out. Tripping as she scrambled to follow Cale, Song picked up her pace to a run, leaving Brute behind.

Song wasn't certain when she had last sprinted. Her legs and lungs burned fiercely, but she ignored them. As Yellow ran she kept a sharp eye out for antepaths, even dead ends. Anything to get them off the main track. There was nothing. Just more track stretching ahead, occasional splashes of blood and smashed rock, but little else.

“There! Ahead!” Song shouted at last, pointing. Was it just the sound of her own feet slapping the earth and her blood pounding in her ears, or was there the sound of fighting ahead of them as well? She wasn't certain she cared because she finally saw a branch in the path; another T with one route that lead away from the tracks. She didn't dare shoot a glance over her shoulder because she felt certain that the asari team was right behind, and above them. Perhaps they were and didn't give a fuck about Yellow, but maybe they were just waiting for the perfect moment to attack. If she and her friends could just make it to that intersection...

Song's momentum was so great she slammed into the wall before she could stop. Cale joined her while Rae and Five slid to a halt, already turning to run down the path that lead them away from the track. Hauling in a labored breath, the stitch that had been forming in her side growing almost unbearable, Song finally turned to look behind them. She saw flashes of blue, both atop the wall, and down on the path. The asari were there, but hanging back. Biding their time?

Before she followed her already fleeing comrades down what she desperately hoped was a safe path she looked down the tracks in the direction of what she now knew for certain was battle. She almost wished she hadn't. Several yards away she spotted what must have been the payload. An awkward, cylindrical, tank-like object balanced on ludicrously small wheels and resting on the track. It was nearly surrounded by krogan, their red arm bands flashing like flags of war. Between Yellow Team and the krogan was Green. The turians were engaged in pitched combat with the Red Team and at the rear ranks of Green Song caught sight of Septimus. He was standing tall and almost elegant. No longer ungainly and awkward, but upright and graceful as he sent arrows into the enemy. The turian front line was holding against the krogan, but Song doubted they would make serious headway. She had no idea what had become of the Grey Team members that had left the trap, but she suspected they had retreated the way that she was about to. Except...

“Song! Let's go!” Five's voice. She felt his slim hand close around her upper arm.

Song didn't budge, even as Five gave her arm a tug. “Five, take the others. Get out of here. If things get too rough, turn invisible and get yourself out. Alright?”

“Do what now?” Rae, followed by Cale had jogged back to their friends as well. The drell folded her arms “Five can-?”

Song gritted her teeth in annoyance. “I don't have time for this Rae. Get moving. I have to warn the turians.”

“Warn the-? Are you insane? It's not as though they're our allies,” Five still gripped Song's arm. The salaarian turned to Cale. “You might have to carry her. I think she's snapped.”

Hearing this, Song jerked her arm free of Five's grasp. “This is just something I need to do. One of those turians is our ally and he'll be the first dead if Blue strikes them from behind.” She danced clear as Five tried to grab for her again. “You guys get going. I'll join you in just a minute.”

All three stood, glaring stubbornly at Song. Cale's lips tightened, “This is a bad idea, Song, but if you have to do it, I'm not leaving.”

“Me neither,” Five said, though his voice shook.

Rae didn't add her own affirmation, but she didn't flee.

Song didn't allow herself time to admire how loyal, or stupid, her team was. Instead she darted down the track, her foot nearly sliding out from under her as she splashed in a puddle of blood. Once she was about a yard from the turian team's back she stopped. “SEPTIMUS!”

Several turians turned, including Septimus. He whipped his bow around and Song was suddenly staring down the shaft of an arrow into the turian's keen, emerald eye. His face cleared as he realized who she was. “Song?” He lowered his bow.

“The hell is going on, Longshanks? Keep firing!” One of the other turian's shouted as he battled a krogan. It seemed the turians were keeping their foes just busy enough to stop them from pushing the payload along. Perhaps they intended to wear the giants down until one of their own could slip in and get the payload over the finish line.

Septimus, flared his mandibles, “Song, what are you doing?”

“Warning you,” she said, gesturing behind her to the diverging paths. “Blue Team is coming. They've got people on the wall as well! They're going to hit you from behind!”

Song saw rather than heard Septimus swear. He grabbed the nearest turian and shouted in their ear. The word spread quickly and the turian team ranks rippled with uncertainty. Did they dare make a break for it? Should they give up this hard fought ground?

“Alright. You told them, now let's go!” Cale grabbed Song's hand and yanked her around, hauling her behind him. She didn't fight and after a stumble, managed to get moving under her own power, though her weary muscles screamed in protest.

“Where you going, Yellow?”

Song and company were forced to come to another sliding halt, kicking up grit and stones as the asari team appeared before them. They were well armed and a few were kitted out with body armor, though it looked as though most relied more on their biotics to protect them. Their biotic energy roiled from them like a wave and Song only needed to glance up to note several more of the blue skinned women above them on the wall, grinning menacingly.

“Take the payload!” Roared the asari in command.

Song hoped that Rae was memorizing faces. If they lived through this it might be helpful to know who was in charge of Blue Team these days. The turians and krogan both noticed the new team now. For a moment there was stillness as each sized the other up. Song wasn't even certain she drew breath as she and her team stood, trapped in the middle of the mess.

A slow second trickled by and, with a roar like one of the famous storms on the muu home world crashing across the jungle, the battle was met.

 

And now a picture of Cale and Song. Just because.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd make it through this arena fight with this chapter... haha, Nope. Things only get more dangerous! Because of course they do.
> 
> I believe your next chapter will be on time.


	12. Victory Conditions

Chapter 12  
Victory Conditions

If Song were looking at the fight from the viewpoint of the watching muu, she imagined it would look like paints being poured together and swirled. Messy, but somehow beautiful. Down in the tight corridors of the stone maze there was precious little beauty to be had as the asari brought their abilities to bear on the turian flank.

Song was smashed against the wall by a member of Green Team who had turned to face the new threat. The turian was more pointy in general than a soft human and she let out a great 'oooof' as his scaly body crashed against her chest. The turian scrambled away as soon as he struck, clearly not noticing the person who had cushioned his landing. Song might have swore, if she had any breath left in her. She tried to take a step and collapsed to a knee, dragging her head up to try to locate the rest of her team.

It was easy enough to spot the yellow arm bands shining out brightly against the backdrop of stone and motion. Rae had managed to slip away, slithering nearly unnoticed through the throng until she was clear of the main fight. Her small size was definitely to her advantage as she fled. Cale and Five were less fortunate, but they had managed to fold themselves into the turian ranks. Green Team was not attacking Yellow and Song would have let out a cheer if her lungs could expand.

Someone grabbed the back of Song's shirt and yanked her to her feet, then dragged her into the turian ranks as well. She stumbled, fighting for air and instinctively to free herself. She brought her elbow up and back, colliding with the face of the one who held her. Once she had her feet squarely beneath her and could take in a full breath, she swung around, her body still tensed to fight. Somehow she'd managed to hold on to her sword and her grip on the hilt tightened as she looked up into Septimus's face. His nose was bleeding and he was looking at her with frustration and admiration intermingling on his sharp features.

Before Song could apologize for elbowing her ally in the nose there was a loud, grating squeal of metal on metal. Septimus turned from her, arrow set to bowstring with lightning speed. “The krogan are moving the payload!” He shouted.

Song craned to see past all the turians. It seemed that the krogan team planned to take advantage of the asari distraction and get the payload out of there. Septimus' shout, she realized, was less for his own unit, and more for Blue Team to hear. Their reaction was immediate. The asari fought like mad to press past the turians and force themselves into the krogan flank.

Song was once against buffeted back and it was a miracle that no one ended up impaled on her sword. She caught sight of Five, who had two daggers free of the sheaths and, with the art and concentration of a painter, slashed them through the air, striking at the asari as they surged past.

The turian ranks were thinning. The asari fought with blade and biotics, and Green Team was already wearied from their conflict with the krogan. Cale grabbed one of the fallen turians under the arms and dragged her back from the front line. Song watched, stricken and uncertain for a moment before her blood pounded in her ears and that same, fierce instinct rose up in her. The bizarre zest for aggression that she was feeling more and more. She charged in, filling the hole in the line where the fallen turian had been. Shoulder to shoulder with the taller, better armored turians. She slashed a passing asari across the ribs. There was a rush of air at her ear as an arrow whipped over her shoulder and lodged in another asari's arm.

A goodly number of arrows sailed over Song and into the asari she faced as well as those still on the wall. She had time to wonder if Septimus was protecting her specifically when she was struck by a blast of biotic energy that sent her crashing backwards. She landed on her hands and knees, skidding on the rocky earth, skinning her palms and tearing her pants.

Song scrambled to her feet, but the asari were nearly past them, headed for the payload and krogan. The turians were able to withdraw a bit, hauling their wounded with them. Song scrambled to follow, uncertain how long this small alliance with Green would last, but willing to keep it going if she could.

Cale was kneeling beside the turian he had helped. Song recognized her as the female who gave Cale the most trouble in the dining hall. There Cale was, using his medigel on her anyway. She did look pretty rough, bleeding in several places, one eye swollen shut.

“Five? Rae?” Song called, looking around. Five appeared at Song's side. He was holding his arm where dark green blood oozed from a gash and looked exhausted, but seemed otherwise well enough. Moments later Rae emerged, unharmed.

When Song gave the girl a stern glare Rae held up her arms in exasperation. “What was I supposed to do? You never gave me back my sword.”

A smile twitched the corner of Song's lips. The drell wasn't wrong. Song turned to Five and pulled Rae's sword free from his waist, passing it over. Once Rae was armed Song turned, squinting at the conflict still raging between the asari and krogan. “Why is everyone working so hard for this win? Wounds and kills don't even count.” She spoke quietly, almost to herself.

Septimus strode up to stand beside her, limping slightly. She glanced down to see a wound just above his knee still bleeding freely, ignored. He rested the end of his bow on the ground. It was almost as tall and Song was. She'd never seen the weapon up close before and she raised both eyebrows, impressed. “You haven't been here long enough to know. Whenever there's a game with no points for kills or wounds it means that the reward for winning will be more than just points. It'll be special things for your team. Better food, accommodations, less harassment and better guards. Everyone wants it.”

“Clearly,” Song muttered. She glanced down at her sword, flicking the wine colored asari blood from the blade. It was darkly beautiful as it splattered against the sand. “Do you still want it?”

“Of course,” Septimus sighed, “but I don't think we have a chance for it any more.”

“How far until the payload reaches the end of the line?” Song asked, eying the ongoing fight. The asari and the krogan seemed to be holding one another off, though the payload had stopped once again.

“Not sure. We wanted to scout ahead, but then we met Red Team.”

“Who the fuck is this?” Another turian marched up to join Song and Septimus'. Five backed away nervously, but Rae glared, standing her ground.

“Yellow Team,” Septimus answered coolly.

“And what exactly are they doing here? Now?” The other turian snapped. He was an older male, his skin and scales hued more dusky brown than Septimus' grey. He bore the face tattoos of a turian who had come to adulthood amongst his people.

“Helping us.” Septimus answered, eye flashing.

The newcomer lowered his mandibles, baring his teeth. “Longshanks, I know you're soft on these newcomers because of what you were, but we can't let them stand around here. They're likely just looking for a chance to attack.”

“Your welcome for the warning about the asari.” Rae jutted out her chin, planting hands on her narrow hips for emphasis.

The turian looked confusedly down at her, “You're that new drell aren't you? This your way of joining our team, little drell?”

“Fuck you!”

“Rae!” Song groaned, grabbing her teammates shoulders and moving Rae behind her. “Shhh.”

“Leave Yellow be.” Another voice, husky and female, joined the conversation above the sound of battle. Song turned to see the turian woman Cale had been helping. She was still sitting on the ground, but many of her injuries were healed, and the rest of her team was gathering to offer their own spare medigel. “No points for wounds or kills and they're not going to rob us of the payload with four people. The game makers can't reach down and make us fight, so leave them be.”

The aggressive turian dipped his head in capitulation, stepping away from Song. Septimus let out a low chuckle. “Unit before blood. Unit before all. You helped us, we won't harm you. This time.” He flared his mandibles meaningfully.

“Finally something I can agree with,” Rae said.

“Please stop talking,” Song snapped at the drell before she turned back to squint once more at the fight in progress. “Looks like the krogan are going to pull it out, but they're hard pressed. Are you going to retreat?”

“It looks like we don't have much chance at the payload any more,” Septimus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Fucking krogan,” the other turian snorted, flicking his mandibles in disgust as he watched the fight rage on. Occasionally they would hear the squeal of the little wheels as one team or another managed to move the payload on.

The turian team collected itself and withdrew even further down the path without the tracks, dejected. Song watched over her shoulder as Red Team, surrounded as they were by Blue, fought on. The krogan seemed invincible. Even without body armor they fought as though their wounds were mere scratches. Song idly mused that if she was smart she would try to get one of those on her team side next. They could certainly use someone who could take several hits and come back swinging, more angry than hurt. The asari too, though they looked delicate and feminine, were more durable than Song gave them credit for. Many did wear armor, or used their biotics to shield themselves, yet they too were able to fight on even with serious injuries.

“They make us look like weak little peons, don't they?” Rae asked, standing at Song's elbow.

“They do a bit, yeah,” Song admitted. With people like Red and Blue Teams in the fight she had no idea how Yellow was ever expected to have a chance. “I think Black Team has the right idea. I haven't seen them in a while and I think they're just hunting down points in the maze rather than bothering with this blood bath.”

“What about the salarians?” It was Cale who joined her now. His hands were stained blue with drying turian blood.

“Probably did the same. Though they seem to have spent some of their time rigging up those Easter eggs as traps,” Five said. “I suppose they know they don't stand a chance against the-”

“What?” Song cocked her head at Five, wondering why he had stopped mid sentence. She followed his gaze, noticing his eyes going wide. Most of the asari had come down off the wall top, but the few that had remained to blast biotic energy down at their foes crumpled to the ground, stabbed in the back.

Standing out against the imperfect sky like lanky assassins, Grey Team had appeared. They moved like wraiths, incapacitating the asari on the wall before they had a chance to react.

“Well shit. This just got a whole lot more interesting,” Septimus breathed, taking in the scene.

“I've heard rumors that the salarian team is given access to special weapons and tech that we're not,” Another turian whispered as though he thought Grey Team could somehow hear him.

“Why would the game makers do that?” asked Rae.

“Because otherwise those twigs wouldn't stand a chance,” snorted the female turian. She was on her feet and had limped over to join the group. She did not have the long, boney crest on her head that the males sported, but her face and bearing were every bit as predatory as her counterparts. Her small eyes were twin points of reddish brown like drops of human blood. She seemed to take in the situation in a glance.

“Why don't we get special weapons?” Five griped. “We don't stand a chance.”

“That's not your tole. Viewers like to root for different things. Some like to back an underdog. Yellow Team has fit that position as long as I've been here, and that's plenty long. Tenacious, but inevitably doomed.” The female turian said with a dry chuckle.

“Guess you should have joined the salarian team after all,” Song nudged Five.

Her tall friend shook his head with a wry smile. “They're... not my kind of people. Even if we are inevitably doomed.”

Before Song had a chance to ponder why a salarian would choose a couple of humans over his own kin, there was a flash and thunderous bang beside the payload. “Fucking shit!” One of the turians shouted, then swore a few more times in his own tongue.

Song flinched as another explosion rattled the cliff walls. The salarians were dropping makeshift grenades onto the heads of the krogan and asari equally. Squinting against the flash of each detonation Song made out that each little bomb was housed in the golden casing of Easter eggs. Perhaps there would not be many left out there for the human team to find after all.

The surprise attack was having the desired effect. The krogan were forced to back off of the payload. Unfortunately this led them towards the turian team. “Ranks! Form up!” Shouted the female, her voice snapping like a whip across the backs of her team. They obeyed without question. Even Septimus limped to his position in the formation, bow at the ready.

“Shouldn't you heal your leg?” Song asked as he marched past her, still trailing blue droplets onto the sand. She spotted at least three medigel on his belt.

“Don't worry. If you're bleeding when the match is over they take you to the infirmary. This way you don't waste a medigel,” he called over his shoulder as he took his place.

Song looked at Five, who was still bleeding from his arm. He shrugged and flicked the blood from his hand before drawing two daggers free with his biotics. Neither of them were bothering to pretend that she was the one with biotic abilities now. She knew that at least the turian commander had noticed. Her keen gaze missed very little.

The krogan, as they pushed past, seemed to have little interest in Green Team. They might take a swipe or two at a turian, given the chance, but their focus was on the payload. The asari too were forced away from the prize. Now that Song could see the payload clearly her eyes widened in disbelief. There on the track, not a yard ahead of the tank-like object, was a faintly glowing, red line. It was partially covered by dust people had kicked onto it, but she knew at once what it must be. The finish line.

Song grabbed for Cale, not taking her eyes from the red line. She grasped his shirt awkwardly and hauled him closer to her, a mad glint shining in her eyes, “How many more bombs do you think Grey has?”

Cale, at first flummoxed by her sudden grab at his shirt, collected himself quickly. “I can't tell, but they have to run out sometime.”

“Right, and after that they only have a tiny window to get the payload over the line.” She pointed and Cale too took in the red gleam in the dirt.

His brows came together, “You think we can make it?”

Rae's voice, high with emotion, chimed in. “You don't think we can-”

“Not us,” Song shook her head. No, she was playing a longer game. The groundwork had been laid, it was time to cement it. She darted behind the turian formation, leaving her baffled friends to stare in her wake. She felt alive with an electricity she'd never felt before. A heat thrumming in her veins that had surpassed fear and grown into a monster of its own. She was about to feed it. She got the turian leader's attention. “I think I can help you win this match!”

The turian looked at Song with bafflement and annoyance. “What's wrong human? Are you cracked? I'm a little busy right now!”

“Look, I'm sure you noticed that-” Song gestured to the finish line. “The salarians have made us a hole and they can't have enough bombs to keep the other teams back forever. They're just trying to push the asari and krogan far enough that a couple of their own can get to the payload and ease it that last yard.”

“And?” The turian raised the scale above her eye.

“If we wait until it seems like the salarians are almost out of ammo then make a charge for the payload, I bet you could win it.”

“You must be cracked,” the leader said, shaking her head and flaring her mandibles and a wry smile. Still, she squinted at the space the bombs had created around the payload, now standing lonesome on its tiny wheels, just waiting for someone to make a move. Song knew the viewers watching this match at home must be loving the tense fight. Perhaps she'd give them something more to talk about for the coming week.

“Well?” Song asked.

“Well, I think you're insane, human. I don't understand why you'd help us, and I suspect you may just want to take us by the hand into a trap.”

“My team can't win this match, and you're the closest thing to allies we've ever had. If anyone wins I'd rather it be you.”

Cale has drawn closer, listening in. Song didn't dare meet her friend's eyes because she felt certain he too would be staring at her aghast. It seemed that the bombardment was slowing and a few of the salarians looked as though they were preparing to get down from the wall. The turian leader took a moment to drag one of her injured men back from the front line, then rounded on Song, teeth bared, standing to her full height. “If this is a trap, human, I will flay you alive and feed you the pieces while you still draw breath!”

“Fair enough,” Song raised both hands, unable to keep a faint quaver from her voice. She had no doubt in her mind that this turian woman meant every violent word. She backed away, straight into Cale, who grasped her shoulders and spun her around to face him.

“Do you have any idea what you're doing?” The man asked, eyes wide.

“Enough of an idea,” Song said, pulling free of his grip and turning to see the turian leader spreading the word through Green Team.

Cale cracked his neck, then knuckles, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Alright then. If the other teams can have an insane leader, we might as well too. Seems it's the fashion.”

Song knew her friend was mostly joking. Mostly.

“Raaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” The turian cry to action was a roar rather than a word. When the salarian bombs had slowed almost to stopping Green Team hurled themselves forward like a wave against a stone. With Red Team behind them now and Blue forced back well beyond the finish line, the turians poured in, throwing themselves against the payload.

Song and her team followed, or were carried along. Rae, sword drawn, kept near the middle of the bunch, clearly uncertain and frightened. Not so eager to use the blade when the enemies were more vicious than a defenseless guard. Still, Song couldn't truly blame the drell. She too was clumsy at best with her short sword and often came dangerously close to accidentally impaling one of their new allies.

Above them the salarians shouted and swore in what Song guessed to be at least three different languages, including common. The remainder of the rigged Easter eggs rained down on their heads. The explosions were small, but deadly. One turian who took the brunt of a blast, collapsed with his chest ripped open, splattering his comrades in blood. Five, who had been using his daggers to keep the salarians back from the edge of the wall, caught sight of this and nearly fainted. He managed to turn away again, but Song saw him trembling violently and his aim with the daggers became terrible. The little weapons clattered uselessly against the walls, falling to earth.

Song pressed forward with the turians, but let them throw their weight against the payload. It creaked to life, clicking down the track as though it had nowhere to be in a hurry. Behind them, Song could hear the krogans charging. In front of them the asari were rallying. If the game wasn't over the very second the payload crossed the line they were all going to die and it was her fault.

BOOM!

Another explosion came to earth beside Song. Cale, who had been sticking with her, shoved her clear, taking the brunt of the damage himself. She stumbled, nearly falling, propped up by the nearest turian who hardly even seemed to notice her. Song looked desperately back at her friend as he crumpled to the ground and above them the gong sounded.

Song's ankles and wrists snapped together and she hit the ground hard. Almost everyone else fell as well. One or two turians who were ready for it, managed to keep their feet long enough to ease themselves down. Song's shoulder and hip took the brunt of her landing and she took a moment to be thankful it wasn't her head before she remembered Cale. She flopped like a landed fish until she could see him. He was still breathing. Small miracles. The right side of his body was a mess of burns and blood. She wished she could reach him with some medigel, but she knew he'd be taken to the infirmary shortly.

Song floundered a bit more, scanning the absurd scene. She was surrounded by piles of people who had, moments before, been trying to kill one another. One of the krogan even laughed. A sharp pebble drove itself into Song's hip, which she did her best to ignore as she located the rest of her team. Rae was looking stunned, laying on her back and staring at the sky as though it might offer some explanation of what had just happened to her. Maybe they should have warned her about the magnetic cuffs, Song mused as she found Five, laying in a heap, half draped over a turian who appeared to be unconscious. Five flopped his way awkwardly off of the other alien with an uncomfortable grimace.

“That was pretty good, Green,” said one of the krogan. Song looked towards her feet, taking in the hulking creature that was flat on his belly only a few feet from her. Though Song wasn't much of a judge of krogan expressions, the giant creature seemed to look amused rather than furious as she might have expected. Those of the asari and salarians she could see looked less pleased, but no one struggled or complained. They all lay, undignified as they might be, awaiting pickup.

Song wondered how long it would take the guards to arrive. They had to be pretty deep in the maze and it was likely only the drell could find their way back with any ease.

As Song spat grit from her lips the walls around them shrank down to nothing, leaving everyone laying in an open, dusty plain. The salarians on the wall were lowered down to join them in the dirt. Song wondered if she could sit up and spot Black Team, wherever they happened to be. She didn't have time to try as the arena guards jogged up, several of them pushing hovering stretchers.

Song spotted Ric running with them, already wearing a new shirt. You could never tell that he'd been attacked earlier that day. He made his way straight for Cale, bringing a stretcher with him. He quickly checked over the fallen Yellow Team fighter, then aided another guard flopping Cale's limp body onto the stretcher.

“Up!” Ordered a guard. The krogan team was collected first, all the guards gathering around them, batons drawn and sparking as Red Team's legs were freed so they could walk. Song wondered if someone had already picked up Brute, and if the blind warrior was even still alive.

“I can't believe that worked,” hissed a familiar voice near Song. She craned her neck, scraping her cheek on the gravely earth. Septimus was on his back not far from her. It was difficult for him to turn his head to look at her because of his long crest, but he managed.

“I'm a little surprised too,” Song admitted. Now that she was coming down off her adrenaline high her more logical brain was taking over and she was beginning to wonder exactly what she had been thinking. She and her team could have been safe and unharmed if they had just stayed out of the way and waited for the match to be over. Yet here they were, surrounded by the turians as though they belonged.

Septimus didn't have time to say more as he was checked over by a guard, who prodded disinterestedly at the turian's injured leg making him flinch and growl. “Take this one in too.” The guard shouted, gesturing for a stretcher.

Song watched him be taken away as the rest of Green Team was gathered up. One by one each group was collected off the ground and shunted away.

“You can bet the game makers noticed that,” Ric said as he hauled Song to her feet. As usual, Yellow was last to be allowed to exit. All that was left of Yellow were Song and Rae. The medics had deemed Five's arm injury serious enough to take him to the infirmary to be given a blood.

“Noticed what?” Rae wrinkled her nose as she and Song followed their guard towards the exit.

Song took in the blood spattered ground, so strangely patterned now that there were no walls. She spotted where she suspected Brute had sat, strangely glad that someone had fetched him, or at least his body.

Ric scowled at Rae for a long moment, as if considering whether he wanted to acknowledge her at all. Song was just happy that Ric seemed to still be their only guard, though he carried his baton pointedly drawn. “You might have escaped the main cameras before, but you were right in the thick of the most entertaining battle this time,” Ric finally answered, slowing his pace a bit so they could talk without being overheard by the guards waiting near the exit. It was so much easier to walk straight across the arena rather than wending through a maze. “The game makers can't fail to notice you working with Green. I did and I'm just a guard.”

“I suppose allying like that is frowned upon?” Song asked.

“Well... I'm not exactly sure how they feel about it. It depends on how the viewers feel. We'll have to see how the ratings go. That said, the game makers prefer all teams feel animosity towards one another, so you can bet you're going to hear more about your choice today.”

“Fuck the game makers,” muttered Rae.

Song was inclined to agree, but she let her face fall into her stoic mask instead. “So what do we do?”

“Not much you can do. Wait and see,” said Ric, dipping his head as they approached the exit so the other guards wouldn't see him speaking.

Ric dropped Song and Rae off with their room guards who both eyed Rae with suspicion and distrust. Clearly the word that she attacked guards had spread, even though her weapon had been taken away and she was so tiny compared to the turian and batarian that Song almost chuckled imagining the drell trying to fight them. Rae behaved herself, frequently looking at Song to see how she was behaving and mimicking her.

“That was some match, eh Ebb?” Mordo the turian asked his compatriot as they walked what remained of Yellow Team to their quarters.

The batarian, who was apparently called Ebb, grunted, looking more sour faced than usual. “Shut up, Mordo.”

“You're just bitter because you backed Grey Team again, but we all knew their streak couldn't last forever.”

“Green only won because they cheated,” Griped Ebb.

Mordo laughed, mandibles spread in his mirth. “Are you kidding? If you think adding Yellow Team to the mix made any difference to the fight, you're insane. Empress saw an advantage and took it. Don't be salty, just make better investments next time.”

Song wondered if Empress was the name of the turian leader. She kept her face turned down as she listened to the guards hassle one another. It seemed they thought the alliance was of little consequence, but Ric was an arena guard. She suspected he knew more about it than these two. She and Rae stepped obediently into their room, the door hissing shut behind them. Song realized for the first time, as she looked down at the drell, that she alone with their newest teammate. “We get showers after an arena day.” she explained flatly, crossing to her bed to await the shower room slaves.

“Shouldn't we talk about what happened?” Rae asked.

Song grimaced. “Let's wait until Five and Cale get back.”

“Do you think Cale's alright?”

“I'm sure he's fine.” She felt reasonably certain both their friends would be alright, even if they did have to suffer some discomfort for the cause.

Thankfully, before Rae could ask more questions the door to the shower hallway opened and two white clad slaves stepped into the room accompanied by a turian guard who looked pointedly at Rae. Song followed demurely into her usual shower room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, chapter 12 already? We're really flying. Well, okay, we're kinda flying hahaha. I am a bit frustrated that I can't see to get our ahead of this story. With Old Gods I first wrote it over the holidays and got ahead by several chapters before posting so it was easier to have a chapter out each week. Not so with The Game, mostly because I didn't expect anyone to read it LOL. Now that I do have a few people interested in upcoming chapters I am more motivated, but also more frustrated by not being able to be as consistent as I'd like. That said: THANKS so much if you gave this story a try and are still with me! It's a blast to write, even if I don't have as much time to do that as I'd like.
> 
> I will try to have your next chapter out to you on time, but I don't know how this week is going to go down.
> 
> Side-Note: I can't remember if human medigel is supposed to be bad for turians, but as, in game (the main canon I am using) you can use regular medigel on your turian squaddies, I think it's fine. I am also using the blood colors from the game vs the comics.


	13. Conflicted

Chapter 13  
Conflicted

Song reveled in her shower, the hot water carrying away dirt, dried blood in various colors, and her thoughts. She allowed herself not to contemplate the day and her choices as possibly the world's worst leader. Instead, she imagined a rain storm back home. One of those nights when the jungle was so humid it almost hurt to breath and the rain rolled in like a wave to shore. The day would be so hot that the raindrops were warm and she would stand outside in her underthings in the inky darkness, head thrown back, catching the droplets on her tongue. A moment of purity and existing for no one else but herself and the storm.

She was so far gone into this memory that she jumped when the bath slave spoke. “Are you ready to get out?”

No, Song thought, but she nodded, opening her eyes and blinking in the harshness of sterile, white light. For a race that valued nature and preserved it on their home worlds, the muu certainly went the other direction on their stations. Not so much as a potted plant to break up the monotony of the achromatic walls. Perhaps the game makers had some in their quarters. As Song dried herself, idly listening for the sounds of Rae causing trouble (fortunately she didn't hear anything), she turned to the slave woman who stood demurely to the side holding Song's fresh clothes. “Do the game makers live here on the station?”

“For a while. There are shifts. They do a few months up here, then go back to one of their planets. I don't know if they continue to work down there, or they vacation.” The woman handed Song her clothing.

“What planet are we nearest to?” Song asked, pulling on her underwear.

“Thras.”

“Huh.”

The slave cocked her head, obviously curious at Song's pragmatic reaction, but too well trained to ask. Song's mouth twitched in a half smile. There was always more going on behind a slave's eyes then a master would ever know. She explained, “Thras is one of their newer colonies. None of the ruling class live there. It's unpopular.”

The slave said nothing, but Song caught the flash in interest on the pale woman's features. Song too was pondering this information. How could it be put to use? She inwardly slapped herself. No. There would be no thinking like Cale and Rae. Insane escape plans were a sure way to get killed even faster and that was all there was to it. Still... a planet like Thras wouldn't have military ships. Likely it only had deep space transports and shuttles to go back and forth to the Transmisphere. If her group could find their way onto a ship and- NO! Stop it. Song shook her head and stepped into her pants. “Do you and the guards live here?”

“Yes,” the woman said. Her pale eyes were hooded now by lashes that were so pale they were almost translucent. “On the other side of the station.”

“Do many guards patrol over on this side at night?” Song let her question drop casually from her lips, as though asking about the food, or if the slaves had enough blankets.

“Not many. All the fighters are penned up at night so-” The woman stopped, eyes going wide and round as she looked up into Song's face. “I'm not supposed to talk about-”

“Hmmm?” Song cocked her head as though she hadn't really been listening, just making idle smalltalk. The woman visibly relaxed. Song let her face fall into the indifferent mask the guards found so comforting. “By the way, you're always the one here to help me bathe, what's your name?”

This seemed to be just the distraction Song was looking for as suspicion melted from the woman's face. “I'm called Dawn. I know you're Song.”

Song let her mask slip and rewarded the younger woman with a knowing smile. Both career slaves then. Something that could bond them, and perhaps already had in Dawn's mind. Song could tell the other slave was becoming fond of her. Where there was fondness there could be trust, and trust could be useful.

Fully dressed, Song dipped her head deferentially to Dawn and the slave smiled in such a genuine way that Song felt her heart soften, if only a little. She let herself be led back down the hall and into her room where Rae was already waiting, looking sullen. Song grimaced and went to her bed, sitting down as the door snapped shut behind her. “Well. You probably have a million things you want to talk about.” She said, her tone clipped. “Out with it.”

Rae blinked, startled by the abruptness. She opened her mouth, closed it, then finally began. “Five can turn invisible?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since always. It's one of his biotic abilities.”

“He doesn't use it.”

“He had a... bad experience last time he used that ability. He's not in a hurry to do it again.”

“Bad experience? What happened?” Rae leaned forward, pulling one of her knees up to her chest and grasping her toes.

“He died.”

“He... what?”

“He recovered from it, clearly.” Song had to fight back her amusement at the expression on Rae's face. The drell was clearly wondering if she could believe anything Song told her. Song measured her tone to be more serious, “No, it's true. His heart stopped, but Cale revived him. If he uses too much of his biotic energy it's not good for his body.”

Rae seemed to consider this, sitting back against the wall and blinking her large eyes. The girl really did remind Song of a jungle lizard, just a bit. She kept this to herself.

“Are you and Five... a thing?” Rae asked after a moment.

Song's head snapped up, both brows rising in confusion, “are Five and I what?” She had expected Rae to demand an explanation for their actions in the arena. For Song putting everyone in repeated danger. She had braced for that sort of question.

Rae's back went rigid and her eyes wide, pupils becoming pinpricks as her memory ability overtook her. “Waiting to walk into the arena. Five reaches out and Song twines her fingers with his as though it is the most natural thing. They don't let go until they're in the maze...”

“Stop,” Song snapped, annoyed. “That was just because both of us have had really frightening experiences walking into the arena. It's not romantic.” Her mind buzzed. She felt nothing but a deep, friendly affection for Five. What if he felt differently? Had she accidentally led him on? She hadn't known many salarians. How did they show affection? “Five and I are friends, and nothing else.” She said, firmly, hoping that would put an end to this bizarre line of questioning.

Rae blinked a few times, coming out of her trace-like state. She slouched back into a more comfortable position and peered at Song for a long moment. “I think that turian likes you. The one with the bow.”

“Rae, drop it.”

“No, I think he does. I caught him looking at you when you weren't paying attention. And when you were fighting he was defending you with his arrows more than anyone else.”

“He probably just knows I'm a squishy human who needs all the help she can get,” Song countered, but her heart did a little flip. Was it possible that Septimus did feel something for her besides an alliance forged on the most tenuous ground? She had long ago admitted to herself that she found turians attractive, but hadn't thought much of Septimus besides a passing crush. Hurriedly she stamped down this fresh glow of possibility. They were stuck in an arena fighting for their lives. Romance was not something she should even be considering. “Change the subject.” Song ordered. Perhaps now they would get on to her expected topic.

Rae considered her options, then asked, “if your name is Song, why don't you ever sing.”

“Never mind. Stop talking.”

“But-”

“Shht!”

“Hey-”

Song shot Rae a powerful glare, then set her jaw and decided she wouldn't wait for Five and Cale to do her nightly stretches. She doubted Cale would be in the mood anyway, thanks to his more serious injuries and she was very done with Rae and her absurd questions.

Rae pouted out her full bottom lip. Song wondered if it was an expression the drell used on her sister. 

She hadn't heard Rae cry since that first night they had woken her from her memory lock. Not a peep, even though she had been stolen from her only family, watched that family be injured if not killed, and been dropped into a death arena with three distrustful strangers. As Song sat down on the floor to do her leg stretches she looked up at her companion, “Rae... I-”

The door snapped open and Song flailed awkwardly to pull herself upright as the two guards deposited Five and Cale into the room. Both members of Yellow Team appeared fresh and unharmed, though the guards looked annoyed and Song suspected Cale had made a few verbal jabs at their expense as they'd walked. Her friend seemed to have avoided being zapped, however, so at least he had used restraint.

Mordo and Ebb did not stick around, instead retreating as soon as they had shoved the salarian and human into their room. The door snapped shut with its usual, impressive speed.

Cale aimed his beaming smile at the two women. “Well, that was interesting.”

“I still don't understand why they stripped me to my underwear when all that was injured was my arm,” griped Five.

“I suppose I should have warned you about that,” Song's own lips twitched in a smile. “Are you both alright?”

“Fine as we can be, considering where we live,” Five said, his tone surprisingly light.

Song had been ready for both of her friends to return with reprimands and questions about her choices in the arena as well, but she received none. Did they actually think she'd made the right decisions? Things could have easily gone south and left all of them injured or dead. Hell, Cale had taken an explosion for her and he didn't seem the least bit bitter that her orders had put either of them into that situation.

Cale and Five both took up their positions beside Song for their nightly stretches. Rae watched in silence for a moment before she joined them for the first time. Cale walked her through some of the tougher positions.

Song finally broke the quiet, “According to Ric, the game makers might be a little miffed at my decision to ally ourselves with Green today.”

“Let them be miffed,” Cale snorted.

“What do you suppose that means?” Five asked, twisting his long torso, working the kinks from his spine.

“I don't know,” Song admitted. “From the sound of it, things could go either way. If the viewers liked the alliance maybe the punishment won't be so harsh.”

“They want to keep us enemies,” mused Cale. “Because if all of us stopped seeing each other as rivals and obstacles, then we could fight back, and they'd be in big trouble.”

“Plotting a station wide coup?” Song asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I don't know,” Cale shrugged. “Just thinking over this new information. I doubt we'll get the salarians to see eye to eye with us, but they don't seem interested in talking to anybody.”

“Maybe the humans?” Rae piped up.

“Stop giving the poor kid hope,” Five shoved Cale's shoulder playfully. His words were more serious however, and he shot Song a sad look. She met his big, soulful eyes and knew that there was still a slave inside him, as there was in her. As fierce as she was becoming in the arena, her conditioning ran deep.

They continued talking as they went through their routine. Cale's escape plans once against became more and more absurd until everyone was laughing over them. Song found, to her immense surprise, that when the lights went out for the night she actually felt good. She didn't know what to do with that sensation. After a day fighting for her life shouldn't she be riding the tail end of the panic, or envisioning horrifying death scenarios in her head as she drifted off? Maybe Cale's annoyingly boundless optimism was wearing off on her after all.

~~~~~

Song wasn't certain what woke her. She drifted blearily to the surface of a dreamless sleep to quiet waking. She lay still,, hearing the breathing of her comrades and a very low, almost imperceptible hum of power somewhere deep in the Transmisphere. She almost let her heavy lids drift shut again, but decided a quick trip to the lavatory was a better idea.

She shuffled, eyes half closed, into the tiny room and was so groggy she nearly bumped into its current occupant. “Cale?” she mumbled, blinking and trying clear the sleep fog from her thoughts.

Her friend was standing in front of the little mirror which was set into the wall above the tiny sink. Cale took up most of the room and she wondered if she should be embarrassed that he was shirtless. Was he admiring himself in the mirror in the middle on the night?

“Hey, Song. Did I wake you? I'm sorry.” His voice was a gentle whisper. Almost parental.

“No. Had to pee,” she said, uncertain. “Are you.... alright? Did they miss a burn when they healed you up?”

“Naw. I'm fine.” He braced his hands on the sink, looking deeply into the mirror for a last time, then turning to leave. “Sorry. Go ahead and use the toilet.”

Now Song was certain something was up. His usually jovial expression was gone from his face and even in the dimness Song could make out the tracks of tears down his cheeks. Awkward as she felt, she planted a hand against his chest, stopping him from walking past her. “Cale, do you want to talk?”

He hesitated, looking down at her uncertainly. Then his expression cleared slightly and the flicker of his roguish grin returned, if only for a moment. “It's nothing... just...” He leaned against the doorway of the little bathroom. “I'm just missing Luke, that's all. When I was snatched by slavers they took everything of mine. My wedding ring, the little varren tooth necklace he gave me, that goofy, old fashioned photo we got taken when we played tourists on earth for our honeymoon. I don't... I don't have anything to remember him by.”

Song stood still, uncertain. She missed her friends back home, Bright Eyes most of all, but it was nothing to losing a husband. Someone with whom you expected to spend the rest of your life. Someone you made plans with and hated being away from, even for a short time. Her hand was still resting against Cale's chest and she gently removed it, hugging herself uncertainly.

“I got this tattoo while we were still dating,” Cale gestured to his chest where Song's hand had been covering the wide, dark lines inked into his pale skin. She hadn't had a chance to study the image closely. Now she saw that it was a ship. Perhaps not the most impressive vessel, but she guessed it was of great significance to him. “This is The Ladybird,” he explained, noticing her interest. “Very first ship I ever piloted. Piece of crap practically fell apart every time I re-entered atmo, but I loved her. Anyway, Luke went with me for moral support when I got the tat, so I thought maybe if I looked at it I could remember.”

“Did it help?” Song's voice was so small she almost thought he hadn't heard.

“Yeah... and it turns out not to be as nice as I hoped, to think about him.” He met Song's eyes with such a deeply sad expression that she nearly flinched. She understood then that her friend wore a mask as much as she did. Smiles crafted to anger or disarm. Cockiness to cleverly hide sadness. Cale ran a hand through his stubbly hair. “I just...” he hesitated, then moved past Song and plopped down on her bed, which was the nearest to the little bathroom. Song followed like an uncertain shadow, sitting down beside him so their shoulders touched. It was easier now that she wasn't looking him in the face. “I saw his face in my head and he was frowning at me. I feel like I'm doing Luke wrong every fucking day.”

“What do you mean?” Song asked, clasping her hands in her lap, her wrist cuffs clacking gently.

“Ric. I don't know if you've noticed, but he doesn't just hang out with Yellow Team because he's bored.”

Song thought of her jealousy at Cale's ability to flirt. She had noticed Ric paying more and more attention to Cale. How the guard has rushed to her friend's side when he'd been injured.

“I know he wants to go further. I can tell. I don't think he's going to force me. Some of the other guards might be that type, but I don't think he is... thing is, Song, sometimes I wonder if I should.”

“Should...?” She suspected she knew the answer, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

“If I should... go further with Ric. For the team. To secure us as favorites and that he'll stand up for us. To make sure he doesn't get bored because all we do is flirt.”

“Cale-” she put her hand on his bicep.

“Then I know I can't do it. It's stupid. It would help the team and it wouldn't mean anything... not to me... except it would. It would mean I cheated on Luke, and even if I fully explain it when I see him again, I know it's going to hurt him. I just can't do that.”

Song had no words. She wasn't certain she was expected to speak anyway. She wrapped her arm around her friend's broad shoulders, leaning against him. The listened to the sleep breathing of the others and the far away hum of the station. After a moment she whispered, “never do it, Cale. I don't care if you have to save the team from certain doom. Never break your promise to Luke.”

Cale sniffed, wiping at his eyes. He let out a quiet sound that was half laughter, half crying, before reaching up and breifly squeezing Song's hand that was around his shoulders. “Yes, ma'am. You are the leader here after all.”

She made a quiet snorting sound, “so you keep telling me... What's he like? Luke, I mean.”

“He's the best. He'd have to be to tolerate a guy like me. We met when I was running mining tools for Dynamis Corp. I hit up a little alliance station where the human miners were holed up. I tracked down this disgusting, hole-in-the-wall pub they'd built for themselves, and there he was. I latched on to him right away. Like a puppy,” he chuckled dryly. “He wasn't so sure about me at first. He's quieter, more of an introvert. You'd like him,” Cale nudged Song lightly with his elbow.

“How long before you got married?”

“Oh, after a couple years of begging on my part. I'm kidding. After two years of dating it just seemed logical. We were both born on earth, so we went back for the ceremony. It was really small and sweet. No fuss. Just the families and a few close friends.”

“Where do you live now?” Song asked, deciding it would not be a good time to imply that he'd never find his way home.

“The Citadel. It makes the most sense for our jobs. He gave up mining and went into cargo with me. Half the time we even do runs together. I guess...” Cale looked at his hands, open in his lap. “I guess it's good that I was alone this last time. At least one of us is free.”

Song wanted more than anything to grab her friend's hands and reassure him that he would be free too. That he'd see Luke again. She desperately longed to believe it too. She wanted to meet the quiet, patient man Cale described. Instead she let the conversation lapse into companionable silence for several minutes. Finally Cale stood up, a fresh determination squaring his shoulders. “Alright, time for sleep. And I believe you had to pee.”

Song chuckled, “now a bit more than I did, yes.”

“Well, get to it. I'm going to sleep.” he said. He'd replaced his own mask, his accustomed smile flashing even in the dimness. Song smiled back, in spite of herself.

“Sleep well, Cale,” she said, getting up and heading back into the little restroom.

~~~~~

The next day Song was on the lookout for game makers stalking around the dining hall at breakfast. She wasn't certain how and when a possible 'punishment' would be meted out, but she wanted to be braced for it.

The turians were civil enough, though they did not act like the allies they had been in the arena. Song supposed she would have to settle for quick, meaningful glances with Septimus, and Empress refraining from beating the crap out of Cale. While the turian leader no longer went out of her way to inconvenience or start fights with the human, she was still obviously not Cale's biggest fan.

As the winners of the special match, Song took note that the turians were given different food from what they normally received. It looked less like processed blocks of protein, calories, and vitamins and instead resembled actual food. Song wondered if their accommodations were better as well. At least for a while. Perhaps the good treatment lasted until the next arena day.

“Why does the turian team only have one female?” Rae asked Ric as they ate their own, bland but palatable meal.

Song watched Cale's reactions to the guard, almost unconsciously looking for a crack in her friend's happy mask. She found none, and couldn't help but be impressed. Even she had trouble keeping her blank expression in place sometimes, but Cale always played his part with utmost conviction and surety. Maybe she should be asking for lessons from him.

“Turian females are less likely to leave the home systems, apparently,” Ric answered, leaning against their table and gnawing doggedly at his gum. “I've heard slavers complaining about it when the muu ask them for more. The muu like the females. Think they're exotic or some shit.”

Song thought of Bright Eyes. She had been a slave all her life, as Song had, but how had she been captured? Had the slavers been so eager, or so well paid, that they ventured into turian space to retrieve a child, or a breeding pair? Had slavers lost their lives to bring one female turian to a greedy muu family out in the Terminus?

“Maybe that's why she's so crabby,” Rae commented, shooting a surreptitious glance in the direction of the turian team. A muu was standing at the head of Green's table, perhaps 'congratulating' them on their victory. Song suspected that the accolades wouldn't last long.

Rae continued to question Ric and Song let herself become distracted, watching the turian team and the muu. She wondered if the game maker would visit their table, or if Yellow was to be ignored. Perhaps the muu hadn't decided what to do about the alliance and Yellow's interference. Song suspected that it had made for entertaining viewing so the muu were torn on how to react.

A flash of green caught Song's attention as Septimus turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder in her direction. She was getting better at picking him out from the crowd these days. She wished she could send a quick smile his way but didn't dare. Instead she nodded her head fractionally, such a small gesture that it would seem completely insignificant to an outside viewer. To her gratification, Septimus lowered his mandibles in just as slight and nearly imperceptible a movement as Song's head nod. Her heart gave a little flip in spite of itself. Talking with Rae had annoyingly kindled the embers of her crush into glowing again. How could she tell if Septimus reciprocated? She knew turian body language well enough, but he was never apart from his team long enough for her to notice if any of it was directed at her. Another thought struck her then. Five was sitting beside her, across the table from Cale and Rae. This placed her and the salarian, the two best observers of the team, in a better position to watch the room.

Song leaned in , touching shoulders with Five, who was eating quietly, though she could tell he too was keeping a close watch on the muu game maker. “Hey.”

“Hmm?” His dark eyes flicked down to her.

“Rae said something when you and Cale were both in the infirmary and I wanted to check it with you.”

“Alright,” he turned his full attention to her, keeping his voice as low as she did.

“She said she thought you and I were a couple.”

Five scrunched up his face, “a couple what?”

“No,” Song had to fight back a smile, “a pair. The two of us... romantically.”

“Like mates?” Five asked, his baffled expression not waning.

“Something like that.” Song waved her hand in a vague gesture. “I just wanted to make sure you didn't think we were-”

“No!” Five said, perhaps a little too loudly. Rae looked over at them, interest flashing in her own large eyes.

Song didn't much care if the drell overheard this part. “Oh?” she said, allowing her mask to slip, freeing the smirk she'd been hiding.

“I...Salarians... we don't 'couple' the way some of you other species do. We don't have family units. Bloodlines are arranged scientifically by families. Eggs are laid and fertilized...” he lowered his voice, blushing faintly. Song had never seen a salarian blush before, “ahem... sorry. Mating pairs are chosen using logic and family dealings, not what you other species traditionally understand as 'romance' or 'attraction'.” Five was making so many air quotes with a single finger of each hand that Song found herself struggling not to laugh. “Some salarians do experience inclinations towards a certain mate, and some even find the asari attractive, but it is rare.”

“So, we're not a couple?” Song asked, making sure that Rae was paying attention.

“No... you're not upset are you? It's just I've never-”

“No, Five, I am not upset,” Song reassured her friend, resting a hand on top of his. “I'm glad you could clear that up and we can go back to breakfast.”

“Alright,” Five looked immensely relieved, turning his attention to his meal with renewed gusto.

~~~~~

The next few days passed quietly enough. Song managed a few more meaningful glances with Septimus, but that was about it. The muu never appeared at their table to discuss any form of punishment, which Song thought was a good thing, but which Ric said probably wasn't. “My thinking is they're waiting to punish you in the arena. That way it'll be entertaining and meaningful.”

On the third day nothing seemed out of place as the group once again trouped in for breakfast. They managed to get their food with minimal injury. Rae didn't do anything foolish and Cale found a good balance of antagonizing the guards, but not getting himself zapped for his troubles. The guards were preoccupied that day with the krogan team anyway. Red was acting up, though Song couldn't determine why. Not without inserting herself into a potential brawl which she was decidedly not eager to do.

She and the rest of Yellow made their way quietly to their table, listening to the snarls and grunts from Red Team as the guards forced them into line. “They remind me of these animals called 'cows' back on earth,” Cale remarked as he plopped down with his tray at their table. “The female ones can be pretty wily, plus they're big and strong, but the males are the ones you need to look out for. I had a friend growing up who's family owned a ranch—that's where they keep the cows-- and he was nearly gored to death by of the males when he was eight.”

“Delightful animals you humans keep,” Rae muttered, prodding disinterestedly at her food.

“Believe it or not we milk the females and eat the males,” Cale said, slathering fruit paste onto his fiber square.

“Gross,” Rae wrinkled her nose, sticking out her tongue for emphasis.

Song chuckled and turned to her own meal, about to scoop some of the protein paste up with her own fiber cube, when a massive shadow fell over her. Rae squeaked in alarm and Cale swore, nearly getting to his feet.

Song looked up and for a long moment didn't quite know how to process what she was seeing. Standing at the end of their table, flanked by numerous guards, none of whom looked friendly, was a krogan.

“Brute?” Song managed to whisper as the guards shoved the krogan with the Un-electrified ends of their batons until they forced him to sit awkwardly beside a baffled and horrified Cale.

“There you go, you beast,” one of the guards grunted, giving the aged krogan an extra prod for good measure. “Your new team.”

“What?” Cale managed.

The guard chuckled mirthlessly. “Decree of the game makers. This pile of problems is all yours now, Yellow. Enjoy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotional scenes and a krogan? Hot damn! What the hell is Yellow Team going to do with a krogan?
> 
> Song is totally like me... a little bit emotionally closed off. That said, she's better at dealing with sad people than I am. I'm totally in *pats awkwardly on shoulder and runs away* territory.
> 
> I expect I'll be able to get you your next chapter on time (probably), but the week after that is crazy busy for work and I don't know how much writing time I'll have. We shall see. Thanks as always for reading and sticking with this story!


	14. Brute

Chapter 14  
Brute

“Is this... is this our punishment?” asked Rae, looking the krogan up and down as though considering whether he might eat one of them.

One of the guards laughed. “No. It's his.”

“Fucker tried to off himself,” another guard filled in, flipping his baton in the air and catching it deftly. “The game makers don't take kindly to suicide around here.”

“Why put him on Yellow?” Cale asked, with far more nerve than Song could have mustered in the face of so many guards from the krogan team. “I assume it's because we're terrible and he's supposed to be punished for his actions by being put on a shitty team?”

“That's part of it I suppose.” A third guard shrugged. “See, krogan are hard to kill, and offing yourself with a fork is a bit tougher when you're an 8' tall monstrosity with a secondary nervous system and redundant organs. So he thought he'd have his team do it.”

Song shot a glance towards Red Team, who were watching Yellow intently. She wondered if they would try to take back their abducted teammate as soon as the guards weren't looking. A quick scan of the room revealed that Yellow Team was on everyone's minds now. Even the salarians were staring at them. Song slumped lower on the bench. Maybe if she made herself small and uninteresting enough she could vanish completely. All the eyes boring into her with mingled curiosity and malice were enough to set every hair on end.

“So we brought this beast over here to a team that couldn't kill him if they tried.” All the guards laughed, slapping one another on the back.

Song's lips tightened in disgust as she turned her attention to the latest unwilling member of Yellow Team. Brute sat quietly, hands clasped on top of the table. He stared straight ahead, milky eyes open and blank, expression unreadable. Song wondered how old he actually was. She knew that krogan lived a long time, but how much more than a human's lifespan? How much of that life had been spent in the arena? She swallowed. Brute had been civil enough with a badly broken leg and several bleeding injuries, but now that he was healed? Blind or not, the game makers might very well have put a dangerous psychopath in Yellow Team's midst and asked them all to get along.

Another guard appeared, plopping a tray noisily down in front of Brute. It was loaded with heaps of something that smelled like slowly rotting death and Song nearly gagged. “Here. No starving yourself.” The guard snapped.

“It would take me months to do that.” Brute spoke for the first time, his deep voice rumbling in Song's chest. He reached out and fondled his meal for a few moments before taking up a handful and chewing reflectively. “I could live without food and water long after your corpses had dried up and been picked over by varren.”

Song expected this kind of backtalk to be met with blows from the guards batons, but instead the tough men and women laughed. One even punched Brute's shoulder companionably. “We're going to miss you, Beast.”

“Try not to give these Yellow Team panty wipes too hard of a time.”

“Even without eyes he could carry this team... literally. On his fucking back.”

The guards carried on laughing as they moved away to stand around the still watchful Red Team.

Yellow table was caught in silent anticipation, like the jungle before a big storm. Song watched the new krogan warily, though he only seemed interested in eating for the moment. He made a mess, not bothering with utensils or wiping his face after he tossed a handful of food into his maw. Once he had devoured most of what was on his tray and was wearing the rest, he seemed satisfied and felt around for his cup of water. This he downed in one gulp and set the cup down with a gentleness Song lifted an eyebrow. “So.” Brute spoke, flaring small nostrils and leaning back in his seat to stretch. “Where's that female I talked to in the arena.”

“H-here,” Song said, raising her hand, then remembering such a gesture was pointless and feeling stupid.

“Song, right?”

“Right,” she was impressed he'd remembered her, though she wasn't certain that was necessarily a good thing.

“As I recall you had another female and two males. Where are they, and do they talk?”

“We're a bit struck dumb at the moment,” Cale managed, his voice smaller than usual. He was far outclassed now as the most physically imposing member of Yellow Team.

“As well you might be,” Brute said, smiling a wide, thin smile. Up close there were qualities of this creature that reminded Song of a species of turtle back home that lived to be hundreds of years old and inhabited swamps, growing bigger by the year until it was the size of a small shuttlecraft.

“I'm Cale,” Cale said, then glanced meaningfully at their friends.

“Five.”

“I'm... I'm Rae.”

“Rae? You sound small. I thought so in the arena too. What are you?”

Rae shot a glance towards Song, wondering how she was meant to respond, if at all, to this rude question. Song gave her a quick nod. “I'm a drell.” Rae said.

“AH!” Brute's voice became booming as his grin widened. “You're the drell who had the misfortune of sitting at Yellow Table. I might have guessed! I'm surprised you survived. The boys told me you were sick.”

“Memory locked,” Five spoke up.

“Salarian,” Brute turned his attention to the lankiest member of Yellow Team. “You're an oddball. Don't you sneaky little twigs usually stick together?”

“This sneaky little twig doesn't,” Five folded his arms.

Brute laughed, the same low, punctuated laugh he had in the arena. Song half expected the table to rattle with the vibration of that laugh. “Your males are interesting, Song.”

“They're not my-”

“And your strategy is even more intriguing. Your little alliance with Green was the talk of the infirmary.”

“Was it?” Song leaned forward on her elbows, closer to the newcomer. Already there was something about Brute that drew her to him. Perhaps it was the intriguing notion of a krogan who had lived the life of a slave. A rarity, as 'exotic' as the turian females.

“I was interested to see what the game makers came up with for you, but now it seems it'll be for me as well,” Brute said, his smile never waning. He seemed to find the entire situation amusing.

Rae folded her arms over her narrow chest, still decidedly uncertain. “So why'd you try to have your team kill you?” she asked.

“Rae!” Song snapped, kicking the drell's shin under the table.

“Ow!”

Brute chuckled again, waving a dismissive hand. “Ah little one. The answer should be obvious.”

Song braced for Rae to say something else stupid, but the drell kept her mouth shut, instead glaring across the table at Song like a petulant child. That was a facial expression Song could easily recognize.

Cale swiftly changed the subject, “So if you're not our punishment... no offense Brute, then we still have the arena to wait for to see how the game makers will handle our little alliance.”

“Seems so,” Brute dipped his head.

“Fuck,” Five griped, turning back to his own meal. The sloppy remains of Brute's breakfast did not seem to have the same negative effect on the salarian's appetite.

“Well said,” Cale agreed. He too was scanning the room, and Song realized he was looking for Ric. Their guard hadn't joined them and she suspected it was because he was as uncertain as they were about their newest member. Would this mean they would receive more arena guards after all? With all the work they had done to seen docile and harmless, had one suicidal krogan ruined their efforts? She grimaced inwardly as her mind began to grapple for alternative plans. What was a slave supposed to do if keep your head down didn't work? She immediately pictured herself striking that guard's baton from his grip and nearly let her mask slip.

She could still feel most of the teams and several guards watching Yellow as though they had all just remembered that the tiny team existed. Song wanted to climb up on the table and explain the reason for their newest member for all to hear, before too many rumors and speculations could fly. Instead she stabbed her protein block frustratedly.

Brute seemed to have sensed her unease. He leaned down, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I don't want to cause your team any trouble. I know you didn't ask for this, neither did I. You're leader, I'll follow your lead.”

Song blinked, not certain what to do with this information. A mountainous alien was deferring to her as team leader? This creature could rip off both her arms wave them around and declare himself high king of Yellow Team if he wanted to. Part of her mind prickled, warning that this might be a trap. She could still feel the resentful glares of Red Team on her like hot pokers held just close enough to her skin that she could feel the heat. As if on cue a droplet of sweat ran down her spine.

“We've uhm... we're been trying to keep a low profile,” said muttered, uncertain.

“That much is obvious,” Brute said, clasping his hands on the tabletop as though he and Song were pals having a casual conversation. As though he wasn't an 8' tall killing machine and she a squishy human. “That'll be a bit tougher with me around, and I apologize for that.”

“You didn't choose this any more than we did,” Cale put in. He was obviously feeling more sympathetic to their newest member by the minute. Rae still glared and Song couldn't get a read on Five's feelings. She'd have to try to subtly ask his opinion later.

Before the conversation could continue, the gong sounded over the loudspeakers to end mealtime. Song stood and moved to the end of the table, waiting as the rest of her team stood, grabbing last minute bites of food and swigs of water. Song was about to start walking when she felt a gentle touch at her elbow. She turned and was surprised to find herself looking up at Brute. “I'm not familiar with the way back from Yellow table.” the krogan said, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Er... right,” she said. Steeling herself, and with everyone still staring at them, perhaps even more than before, she took Brute's hand and rested it on her shoulder. “Stick with me, I suppose.”

Brute nodded, his hand resting so gently she wondered if he was worried he'd break her. She thought of telling him that she might be a soft human, but she wasn't made of glass. Instead she and her team began to weave their way through the throng. This was easier than it had ever been. It was astounding what having a krogan on the team could do. Red left them alone, watching their former member with what Song could only interpret as sadness, something she'd never thought to see on their battle scarred faces. Green Team moved closer and Song met eyes with both Empress and Septimus, who looked at her questioningly. She hoped the meaningful look she sent back was sufficient to settle their fears, but she wasn't certain. All this being the center of attention was making her edgy and she had to remind herself that it wasn't really her everyone was looking at.

Ebb and Mordo met them in the wide, crowded doorway from the dining hall. “Well fuck me sideways, it's true,” Mordo laughed, pointing at Brute. Both the batarian's sets of eyes were wide with genuine surprise.

“You thought I was lying?” Another guard separated herself from the throng. She was a tall human with a scar crossing her lips, blond hair in a crew cut almost as short as the slaves', and the stern continence of one who takes no shit. “Hey, Brute.” She lifted her angular chin in greeting. Her arms were folded, but her baton was gripped loosely in one hand.

“Nara? That you? They transferred you over here?” Brute asked.

Cale lifted a questioning eyebrow and the woman called Nara, Ebb the turian guard explained as he drew his own baton to herd the group on down the hall. “Nara's a transfer from Red.”

“Not that ol' Brute here would try anything. Still, if he did, the game makers want to make sure these two have someone around who knows how to handle a krogan,” Nara slapped Mordo's arm in a gesture that was only half playful.

Song ached to ask if they would be given new arena guards as well, but kept her mouth shut. Ebb and Mordo were no Ric, eager and willing to answer questions. She was just as likely to get a smack on the face.

Yellow Team halted in front of their usual door, but it did not slide open. Mordo shoved Song roughly from behind. “Keep moving, slave. You've outgrown your old hole. Time for a new one.”

“What-?” Cale said before he caught himself. Ebb glowered at him. Nara, watching, seemed to catch on that Cale was considered 'the trouble maker'. The irony of this was not lost on Song. That they should gain themselves a krogan, and the guards were still more keen on watching Cale. She supposed it meant their plan was still working. She made certain to keep her own face as blank as possible now, hoping Rae was doing the same, or at least trying. The drell had been blessedly quiet the whole walk.

Several doors down from their previous rooms, the guards stopped Yellow Team before an identical door. One flash of a wrist ID later and the door slammed open with the expected speed and force to reveal a much larger barracks. Song had to work to keep her mask in place as she nervously followed her teammates inside.

This room was a long rectangle instead of round, like their previous one. Six beds lined the walls, complete with identical footlockers for extra clothes. There were two tables equidistant from each other down the middle of the room. Song scanned the walls. Though they were the same clean white, these were more tarnished. She caught sight of what looked like claw marks and what might have been a blood stain or two. There was the faint tang of alien body odor and disinfectant still hovering in the air, though there was a fine layer of dust settled on the tables.

All three guards watched the slaves investigate for a moment, like they were studying animal behavior, then, seemingly satisfied, they departed. Song was so distracted by this turn of events she almost forgot the blind krogan whose hand was still resting on her shoulder until he gave her a gentle squeeze and spoke, “dimensions?”

Song fumbled for a moment describing the room... “er...about thirty five feet long I'd guess, with twelve beds and two tables. Path down the middle is about six feet wide and the tables maybe ten feet apart?”

“Good girl,” Brute patted her shoulder. He was wearing an odd expression Song couldn't place, but it certainly didn't look happy. She reached up and took his hand from her shoulder, guiding him to a nearby bed until he could reach out and touch it. Once he had his bearings he sat down with a grunt. “Right. This'll be mine then. How many beds from the door am I?”

“Second bed,” Song answered as her friends moved around, investigating and picking their own spots.

Rae peered towards the end of the long barracks, “we could sleep down there you know. We don't need to all be grouped up by the door.”

Cale and Five ignored her, picking the two beds on the opposite side of the room from Brute. It seemed to have been silently agreed upon that Song would sleep beside the krogan. She wondered how much of a responsibility she had unwittingly found herself under.

It took moments for everyone to settle in, Rae grumbling, but selecting the bed beside Five's. No one seemed over eager to join Song on the scary giant side of the room. Brute must have sensed this because he laughed again, low and punctuated. His voice vibrated menacingly off the walls and Song flinched away slightly. The knowledge that she and her friends were trapped in a room with no guards and a member of Red Team made Song's skin prickle as her adrenaline threatened to spike.

Brute stopped laughing, hesitated, then bared his teeth in what might have been a smile, or at least an attempted one. “You're all a bunch of frightened pyjaks now, eh?”

“I don't know what that is,” Cale spoke up, his voice filled with false bravado. “But yeah, I suspect we are.”

“Alright, assorted weaklings,” Brute gestured vaguely towards the group, “I have no interest in hindering you, or your team. I will not rip out your livers in the night and devour them. Nor will I tear anyone's limbs off or crack sculls. It wouldn't do a damn thing for me except make a mess and get the guards in here again, so you can all calm down.”

Strangely, Song did calm down. His words were steady, unconcerned. She looked him over, her eyes taking in each thick scar on his leathery skin. He had more old wounds than he did patches of unblemished flesh, she realized. “Brute... how long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” He answered. His eyes, though pale and dead, still flicked faintly in Song's direction when he addressed her.

“How old are you?” It was Rae's turn to contribute.

“Older than you, little sister,” Brute chuckled. This time no one seemed alarmed by the sound.

Song was impressed by how quickly she was able to feel safe around this newcomer. She'd been deeply suspicious of Rae, but slap a kroagn onto her team and she was totally fine? Inwardly she forced her walls to remain firmly in place. He harmless enough for now, but what about the arena? Even if he didn't turn on them, which she suspected he wouldn't, what were they supposed to do with a blind fighter?

“No, but how old?” Rae pressed, tucking up her feet to sit in the lotus position on her bed.

“Shhh, Rae,” Five's admonishment was gentle.

“Are you going to answer any of our questions?” Rae demanded instead.

“If you ask good ones,” Brute countered and Song felt her mask slip as a half smile threatened on her lips.

“Okay...” Rae was undeterred, but fell silent to come up with her 'good one'.

Cale filled the void, “I think I know the answer to this, but can you give us tips about how to handle Red Team?”

Brute leaned conspiratorially towards Song, “Keep this male. He's a thinker.” Leaning back he shook his wide head slowly. “No I will not. However-” Brute raised a hand to stall Cale's next query. “I will do my best to aid this team. As I said, I have no interest in hindering you. I may never see victory again, but you yet might.”

“I don't know if you know this,” Five spoke up, his voice tinged with sarcasm, “but we're on Yellow Team. Victory probably isn't in our cards.”

Brute paused taking a long breath, drawing in all of their attention as though he held them in some trance. There was an odd, hypnotizing quality to the depth and tambour of his voice. “The game makers can tell you that you are here to lose. They can call me 'Beast' and treat my kind no better than mindless predators They can fall into that trap if it suits them, but we will not dig them out again.”

“I like this guy,” Cale jabbed his thumb towards Brute, his cocky grin returned full force.

Rae seemed to have determined her her question. “Why... why did you team try to kill you?”

“Rae!” Five hissed in warning. “Not again.”

“Because I asked them to,” Brute answered.

“Why?” Rae persisted, though Five looked ready to pounce on her and slap a hand over her mouth,

“Because of these,” Brute answered without hesitation. He raised his hand before his sightless eyes and waved it to illustrate the issue. “As I said, little sister, I am q great deal older than you, and I have been in this arena long enough. I suppose my eyes decided they had seen everything they needed to see. My team thought me wise, useful. I lead as none of them ever could, but when the world went black around me I became a burden more than a leader. They are ready to fight without me. I was ready to go.” His words were blunt, without emotion. As if he were discussing the quality of his new bed rather than his own life.

The aged krogan pushed himself to his feet, “I suppose you would like to discuss things amongst yourselves. If someone would point me towards the far end of the room-”

Song instinctively stuck out her arm for Brute to hold, realized he had no idea she had done so, admonished herself inwardly, then settle his hand on her elbow. “Come on. I'll take you. Thanks for understanding.”

She and her newest teammate shuffled towards the back of the barracks. It seemed somehow darker, almost ominous at this end without the company of the others and only the confused echoes of their voices as company. Song felt bad leaving Brute down there as she settled him on the bed farthest from the group. She spotted the outline of another door which she guessed must lead to the shower hallway.

Song turned to return to her friends and Brute caught at her arm. She spun to face him again. When he was sitting down she was able to look him directly in the face. It was a little unnerving to stare into his eyes, unseeing and ghostly, but she stood firm. Brute's hand squeezed her bicep, experimentally, “What are you doing?” she asked.

“My men told me you were a fighter. I wanted to see what I'm working with.”

Song chuckled letting her mask slide away. No need to hide her expression around someone who couldn't see it. She flexed her arm muscles, hoping they weren't as pathetic as she feared. “I'm really not much of a fighter. I make... interesting choices in the heat of the moment.”

“Do those choices allow you to succeed?”

“I'm about two for two,” Song replied ruefully, remembering the blow to the head she'd been rewarded with for her attack on the guard.

“Hm... not too bad,” Brute mused as he investigated her arm all the way down to her wrist. “For a human. I've seen worse, especially in a female.” He spun her, fingers prodding the muscles of her back and shoulders. Song wondered why those should matter, but she didn't fight. This wasn't like the cold fumbling of a guard trying to assert control. She desperately wanted this warrior to declare her fit. Perhaps then she'd feel worthier of her role as team leader. Finally Brute harrumphed and let her go.

She turned back around, folding her arms tensely over her chest. The krogan nodded in apporval and Song relaxed fractionally as he spoke, “I can tell you exercise here in your barracks. Some don't. Some are foolish and spend their week laying around. They don't last long. However, your muscles aren't trained for fighting.”

Song had to agree as she looked down at her arms. She saw tight, corded muscle under dark skin, but knew she had very little idea how to put that muscle to practical use. “Can you teach us that too?”

Brute tilted his head. “Perhaps.”

“We'll start tomorrow,” Song announced flexing her leader's tone as she did her shoulders. She hoped she sounded commanding rather than bossy.

Brute nodded, the barest hint of a smile twitching the corner of his wide mouth. “Go on. Your team is waiting.”

Song hurried back to her friends who were already gathered in a cluster with their heads together. Song slipped in between Five and Cale. “So?” she asked, looking from face to face.

“I don't know,” Rae looked tense. “Cale, you and I have met krogan in council space. I wouldn't call them the nicest group of people. Words like 'ass holes' spring to mind.”

“I've seen some of that,” Cale agreed. “Can't say I've ever seen a krogan be kind, or even terribly helpful, unless it fit with their plans.”

“But he's not a krogan from council space,” Song pointed out. “He's like Five and me. Raised a slave.”

“He's been kept around krogan from the outside. He's been around them for a long time and their attitude is bound to wear off. Besides, he must have been born on his home world, that's where the fertile females are.” Cale leaned around his friends to eye Brute, sitting quietly in his corner.

“So? I came from a colony and I'm probably nothing like other humans who came from colonies,” Song countered.

“Right,” Cale rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing frustratedly.

“We do this every time,” Five said, arranging his long legs to sit more comfortably. “We all wondered if Rae was a spy or a trap and she's still here.”

“She did attack a guard,” Song cocked an eyebrow.

“So did you.” Cale prodded Song's ribs playfully.

“Different circumstances, but I take your point.”

“What I'm saying is,” Five tried again, “he's on our team now whether we like it or not. We can trust him, or not, but history has shown that we really don't have the time or the manpower to be suspicious. We barely have time and manpower to stay alive. If he was to suddenly turn on us, what's the difference really? We're two steps from death at any given moment out there.”

Song nudged Five with her shoulder, “you're taking my job as resident ray of sunshine.”

“Fuck, she's infecting us!” Cale threw up his arms in a dramatic gesture. “Her evil must be stopped.”

“I'm not being that pessimistic,” Five defended himself, picking up on Cale's over-the-top tone. “Never as bad as her!”

“Stop it,” Song snapped, trying to look pissed and knowing she failed.

“You're all mental,” groaned Rae, covering her face with both hands, though Song knew the drell was hiding amusement.

“So the consensus is: trust the krogan?” Song asked, to be certain.

“Trust the krogan,” Five nodded firmly.

“Trust the krogan,” Cale spoke next.

“Ugh,” said Rae, but she reappeared from behind her hands. “Trust the krogan.”

“Good,” Song nodded, rising to fetch Brute from his far off corner.

Brute settled himself back on his bed, gazing sightlessly ahead. Song seated herself, clasping her hands tensely in her lap. No one spoke for a long moment. Finally Cale cleared his throat. “Well... you're with us now, and we sure as hell haven't learned everything you could teach us so... teach us?”

Brute raised his head fractionally. Song realized that his body language was deeply subtle, unlike a turian or human. Cale's words had drawn him up, bolstered him however minimally. “Very well, what would you like to learn?”

~~~~~

Yellow Team spent the rest of that day truly immersing themselves in the arena as only a veteran could. An unfamiliar glee spread through Song as they asked their questions. The part of her that struck guards and made wild alliances with turians was alive and in charge. She found herself sitting on Brute's bed, completely forgetting that she had once seen a krogan rip a human's head clean off. The others soon joined her, sitting on the floor or on nearby beds to listen. This was how it had been in Song's old slave barracks. Comradeship as she hadn't felt in such a long time she'd almost forgotten what it was like. It filled her up and warmed her like the gentle sun after a bad storm. She never wanted to turn her face away from that sun again.

“How many different arenas and games are there?” Cale asked. He was seated cross legged at brute's feet like a child about to be told a bedtime story.

“Not as many as you'd think,” Brute answered. “I've seen variations of most of the games played hundreds of times. They try to change up the terrain, keep things fresh for the viewers. Every now and then they throw in a death match or something like the maze where there are special rules or prizes.”

“What about alliances?” Cale asked. “You probably heard about our little pair up with Green Team. Anyone else done that?”

“A few times. Not usually with us,” Brute chuckled. “For a while the humans thought they'd pal it up with the asari. Never did figure out if it was the game makers or the asari themselves who broke it off. Either way, it didn't end well for the humans.”

“Great,” Song sighed, casting an apologetic gaze over her teammates.

“I've got another question,” Cale leaned forward, his voice low and conspiratorial “Has anyone ever escaped?”

Brute blinked slowly, not answering right away which made Song tense up. She thought of admonishing Cale for his ever hopeful questions, but something kept her jaw tight shut. Finally Brute pulled in a long breath, “I've heard stories. Never saw anything, mind you, but word spreads. Could have been dining hall gossip, but I heard guards talking about escapees.”

“Who? When?” Cale practically fell over himself to get to his feet as though someone had electrified the floor.

“Settle yourself, human,” Brute waved a hand in a calming gesture. “It was years ago. I've heard of a few individuals trying, with poor results. The salarian team got the closest, according to rumor. The guards I overheard called them 'crafty fuckers'.”

“They are,” Five said with a dry chuckle. “They're the ones with the bombs and the tricks.”

“And the game makers supply them with tools,” Cale snapped his fingers, beginning to pace. “The game makers give the audience what they want to see. The archetype of the teams they like. Red are the brutish thugs, Yellow the underdogs doomed to fail, Grey are the clever techies.”

Five's eyes widened a bit, interest flaring. Song hadn't seen an expression quite like this on her friend's face the in all the time she had known him. “What happens if you give a race that learns fast, masters tech, and always has a plan tools?”

“Exactly,” Brute said, stabbing at the air with a finger to punctuate the sentiment.

“Did they make it?” Rae questioned, bouncing up on the balls of her bare feet.

“I don't know. The way the guards talked I don't think they did.” Brute shrugged. He and Song were the only ones who seemed to be keeping their heads. Song sensed that she had lost the others, even Five, to a world where freedom was attainable. The lure of that world tugged at her more and more these days and she bit back against it.

“Song, you just need to make an alliance with the salarians!” Cale instructed enthusiastically.

“She makes all your alliances?” Brute asked, sounding dubious.

Song bristled. “Thus far I have.”

“She's in charge of making friends, I make the enemies,” Cale said, grinning manically.

“I don't think you're going to be able to convince the salarians that allying with you is a good idea,” Brute said, and Song tended to agree. “Turians are one thing. They value anything that helps their unit, their clan. Hell, you might even be able to get the krogan that way, given enough time and the right incentive. Those brains on sticks, the salarians though? Hard to tell what they care about besides winning and working out their own schemes.”

“Maybe... maybe I could try to join their team as a spy?” Five offered nervously.

“I don't know if they'd buy it,” Song said, though the idea wasn't as horrible as she might have thought. “You could pretend you're sick of us humans and Brute being forced onto the team was the last straw.”

Five did not look pleased. Song's resolve melted the moment she noticed he'd begun to tremble, even has he lifted his chin, “if.... if it would help.”

“No, Five, I'm-” Song floundered, uncertain. She remembered a panicked Five in his first day in the arena. How she'd had to grab his hand and pull him along to keep him alive. There existed in him great courage, but also a blinding fear she too knew well. She could see it, the way he withdrew, held his body rigid, his mouth a tight line. “We'll... we'll hold that plan in reserve.” She said, firmly.

Brute turned towards her as though he could still see her. “If your team is bent on escape, finding out what the salarians are doing, if anything, might be your best-”

“We'll wait.” Song cut him off, her voice a hammer blow. “Going into that without a plan will only end in disaster.”

Five met her eyes gratefully, and Song tried not to look at Cale and Rae, whom she guessed came down on Brute's side of this discussion. To his credit Cale moved on quickly, pacing the floor. “But someone escaped, or nearly escaped. It can be done. I know it can.”

“Cale...” Rae said, her voice tinged with warning. She gestured meaningfully at Brute.

“I am a member of Yellow Team now. I follow your goals. If your goal is freedom, then my goal is freedom.” Brute said.

Song stared up into his wide, wrinkled face. Was he being honest or was this a game maker trap? He had been in the arena an awfully long time. Time enough to work out a deal with the people in charge. Especially at his age. Perhaps he was only one revealed secret away from being allowed to retire. Still, the mantra ran through her head 'you're here until you die'. By the number of thick scars crisscrossing Brute's skin, he'd been close to death more times than she had years of life and if the game makers were willing to do that to him, odds were good they didn't give a crap what happened to him now.

“Is there... is there any chance Red Team will leave us alone after this?” Five asked tentatively, deciding to aim the subject in a new direction.

Brute laughed his loud, low laugh, “I have my doubts. Certainly they won't go out of their way to kill me... you on the other hand.”

“Will you fight against Red Team if we need you, or are young going to sit there and let them slaughter us?” Cale planted his fists on his hips.

Brute's expression changed again, sadder, Song was coming to realize. Though the krogan had smiled, and even perked up from time to time, she did not think he had ever truly strayed from the realms of sadness. He blinked sightless eyes, flexing his small hands. “You will soon find, human, that in the arena I am of little use, whatever happens. The best I will likely be able to manage is to not hinder you, and even then I cannot promise.”

“Are we sure this isn't our punishment?” Hissed Rae, wrinkling her wide nose.

~~~~~

The rest of the week found Yellow Team changing up their daily routine. Along with their normal exercises and stretches they added laps up and down the room, and Brute's combat training. The krogan began with hand to hand, teaching each how to punch, kick, and look for each species' weak points. “Turians look tough, and that boney plate over the forehead can take a hit, but you grab a mandible like this-” The old krogan made a snatching motion in the air as though plucking a ripe fruit, “and you can lead that fucker around like a varren pup.”

Brute taught them each in turn how to dislodge someone who was trying to pin or strangle them. Granted, this was easier for the likes of Cale and Brute, but even Rae was able to do it. She cheered and bounced around the barracks for several minutes when she finally succeeded. Though the little drell was still distrustful of their new teammate, when she saw everyone else standing in line to learn she seemingly couldn't resist. Song wondered if Rae was imagining trying her new moves on guards. If she was honest with herself, Song was too.

Their next day in the arena inevitably came. Song felt an annoying flop sweat prickle damply on her skin as they waited in the hall before the doors to be handed their gear. The krogan team, who had taken it upon themselves all week to take their former leader through the food line, then deposit him at Yellow table with his meal, stared balefully at Song and company. It was decidedly unnerving.

Nara, the guard who had been assigned over from Red Team, joined Ric as they waited. She looked the shorter man up and down, sucking her teeth as she assessed. Ric glowered like a sullen child at the intrusion. Song wasn't certain about Nara, but, though the woman kept her baton drawn when Ric had his holstered, she held it in a loose grip and seemed more interested in keeping an eye on the other fighters than on Yellow Team.

Weapons were passed out and a slave with a data-pad stopped in front of Cale, smiling expectantly. “You earned points from your Easter eggs in the last match,” Ric explained.

“Ah.” Cale took the pad, running his finger down the screen to scroll through their options. Song wondered what everyone else's weapons and armor lists looked like. What toys the salarians were being offered. Or the krogan. All of their weapons were heavier, made of sturdy material. Song hefted her cheap short sword glumly. If she hit something the wrong way the blade would probably snap.

“Let me see,” Brute whispered to her. Gingerly Song set the handle of her sword into Brute's hand. The krogan rumbled a growl that made Song flinch. “This is it? This is all you have?”

“Well, Five has some daggers he's really good with,” Song said, eying the guards in case any had picked up on the salarian's talents.

“You need to get yourself better gear if you ever hope to do anything besides cower.”

“Cowering suits us,” Five said, overhearing.

“Wait,” Brute spoke louder, staying Cale and the slave as they talked over what he could purchase. The krogan moved past Song, the slave drawing near so he could whisper to her. Song marveled that the white clad human obviously had no fear the of hulking giant before her. The slave stood on tiptoe to hear the instructions she was being given.

“What's Brute got up his sleeve?” Cale asked, moving to stand beside Song.

“Something better than we did, I hope,” Rae muttered, folding her arms and already wearing a pout. Five had taken her sword again, promising to give it back when the match started.

Moments later another slave strode up holding a tall, whippy looking polearm with a curved blade at the end. He passed this to Brute, who hefted it, everyone backing away slightly before the blind giant. Seemingly satisfied Brute turned to Yellow Team. “Song?”

“I'm here,” She stepped forward, taking the new weapon as Brute held it out to her. “This is a poor specimen, but the best I could buy with the measly points you had.”

“Sorry,” muttered Cale sarcastically. “If you haven't noticed, our team isn't made up of hardened killers with redundant nervous systems and extra organs.”

Brute ignored this, addressing Song as he arranged her grip on the polearm. “I will teach you better with time. If we are one day able to afford a training room, that would be best. Otherwise all your learning must happen in the arena.”

“Why does Song get a new weapons and I don't even get to hold mine?” Rae griped.

Brute turned in the direction of her voice and reached out, managing to plant a hand on the top of her head, which Rae tolerated, but did not look pleased. “Be patient, little sister, we will figure out what role suits you best. We will just have to go one at a time.”

Rae huffed, but didn't complain further. Nara the guard was watching them with a slightly raised eyebrow. She rolled her head towards Ric. “Are they always like this?”

Ric frowned and chewed grouchily on his gum. “Yes.”

“Huh.” Nara shrugged, dropping the subject as the groups began to be herded into the arena. Song was not surprised to feel Five's hand reaching for hers. Seemingly he was willing to overlook the embarrassment of the 'in a relationship' conversation in favor of the steadying effect of his friend.

The teams were led into the arena one at a time, but without the long wait of the maze encounter. As they walked out once more into a false sunny day under a glitchy sky Song was wrapped in the unusual sensation of being outdoors while knowing she was inside the heart of a space station. Brute moved with the group, allowing any of them to correct his path as they walked. “What do we see?” he asked, closing his eyes. Song wondered if he could still make out the canned sunlight even with his blindness.

Five groaned and Cale heaved a sigh. Song tended to agree as she took in that week's arena. “I think it looks like our punishment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week is going to be hella crazy for work, so I am doubtful I will be able to get you a chapter next monday. This one was tough enough because the characters just wanted to keep talking.
> 
> New polearm for Song? Sweet! Not sure how well having a blind krogan around is going to help in the arena though.


	15. Punished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? I told you you probably weren't going to get a chapter and then you got one? The odds were stacked against you this week and I still came through! I was busy with work, then I was in a car accident that might have crushed my poor laptop! Yet we persevered and a new chapter is here for you! Enjoy it! It took a lot to get it to you!

Chapter 15  
Punished

“What are we looking at?” Brute asked again as Yellow Team was led to their starting positions.

“A giant, fuck-off mountain,” Cale answered, gesturing uselessly to the land mass towering before them.

“Can someone be more specific?” Brute allowed himself to be led to his metal starting plate nested in loose stones at the foot of Cale's 'mountain'.

“I'd call this more of a very tall and very steep, hill,” Song supplied.

“At the top there's a pole,” Rae shielded her eyes and squinted upwards, then walked meekly to her own starting pad, though Five watched her suspiciously. Lacking a weapon and facing two guards, it seemed Rae knew better than to try anything.

Song glanced at Ric. The guard's mouth was twisted it a tight downturn. He glared at Nara when she wasn't looking and, though he had his baton drawn, obviously had no notion of using it. For her part, Nara herded everyone into place as she might have with the krogans. Needlessly threatening with her baton and fixing everyone with warning stares so intense Song only managed to meet her eyes for a few seconds. Song wished Ric could give them their usual warnings. Was there any way they could rid themselves of Nara? She didn't think so, the tall guard looked as moveable as the 'mountain'.

Five, leaned to look the left and right, taking in their surroundings, filling in more details for Brute. “We're at the foot of an exceptionally steep hill. The other teams must be arranged around it as well, at intervals, but I can tell from here that they don't have nearly has hard of a climb if they want to reach the pole at the top. I'm assuming that's our goal.”

“Hmmm,” Brute mused as the last of Yellow Team took their places.

The guards, satisfied that everyone was staying put, departed. Ric cast a longing glance over his shoulder as he went, obviously wishing he could stay and add his own thoughts on the situation.

“Can you see other teams?” Brute asked.

“Where I am I see a few members of Blue,” Five answered.

“What about the other direction?”

“I've got Grey over here.” Cale called. He was positioned opposite Five, looking down the graveled valley to the right of the hill.

“Behind us?” Brute gestured over his shoulder with his head.

“Stone wall.” Song pivoted on her platform, still grasping her polearm like a child with a comfort toy. “Doesn't look like we'll be climbing it any time soon. Even if all the krogan stood on each other's shoulders I don't think they'd make it over.” The stone was smooth and unmarked, obviously meant to keep them in their pen.

“So they want us to climb the hill, then what? Push a button? Hold the point?” Five craned his neck looking up the rocky slope that rose before them. Sections of vertical stone wall which only a highly skilled and practiced rock climber could eve attempt made their path up impossible. “How the hell would we even do that?”

“We're not supposed to,” Song answered, turning back around to face the hill. “This is our punishment. To see a possible victory but be unable to reach it.”

“And no sign of our allies anywhere,” Cale pointed out.

“They're likely on the other side of this hill and facing a similar view,” Brute said. He seemed utterly relaxed. Song wondered how many years in the arena it took someone to get that calm. Her skin was alive with pins and needles of anticipation and a few preemptive beads of sweat were already slithering down her back. Brute looked as though he was ready for a nap.

All the teams must have been in place because the disembodied voice rattled to life over the loud speaker. “Welcome everyone to today's game! We have a fun one for you, rest assured. When you heard this would be a capture the flag game you may have scoffed. They are a staple here in the arena, but we will never allow our dear audience to become bored! Today we've got a new twist on a classic that is sure to make you sit up and take notice!”

“Oh joy,” Five grouched. He rested his slim hand on the pommel of his short sword.

“As you may guess, to win this game a team must take their flag to the top of the hill and hang it on the flagpole found there. Naturally, they may remove another team's flag if one has already been placed, but I doubt the other teams will be keen on letting that happen.” The Voice paused as if awaiting laughter from somewhere, then pressed on. “Now for the added twist! At their home base, each team has, not their own flag, but that of another team.”

Song's heart turned to a lump of cold cold in her chest as a short, slim pole rose up out of the stones in front of her. A blue flag dangled at the top. She shot a look to her left where Five has said he'd seen Blue Team. Could the asari already tell who had their flag?

“The overall winner will be the team with their flag flying high at the end of the game! Lesser points will be awarded to those who flew their flags, but did not hold the coveted position. There will be fifteen points for wounds today.” The voice paused for emphasis, “twenty for kills.”

The world dropped away from Song as she processed those words and stared at the flag hanging limply in front of her. She nearly fell off her platform, overcome with vertigo. This was it. Their punishment for allying themselves with Green Team. Their punishment was death.

“This should be interesting,” said Brute, as steady as ever.

BONG! The red light appeared in the sky above the central flag pole.

“Shit.” All the blood had drained from Cale's face. “What the fuck do we do?”

“I'm not dying here,” Rae announced fiercely. “As soon as we can move, Five, you had better give me my sword. Five?”

Five was looking around urgently, large eyes narrow and searching. Song hoped he wasn't going to freeze up again.

BONG! The light was yellow. Song's legs tightened as she shifted almost involuntarily to the balls of her feet. Braced to run, but where?

“Where do you think they put our flag?” Cale too was poised for action. They were going to have to fall back on the running and hiding they had done the first day, but she wasn't certain where or how. Before her loomed the hill's sheer face of flat rock and impossible climbs. To either side, enemy teams that would slaughter them for the points and make it look easy.

“I bet they put it with the krogan,” Rae said, hands balled into fists.

“Guys, look!” Five pointed.

GONG!

Song stepped from her pad, holding her polearm in a sharking grip, but grasping it the way that Brute had shown her. Brute, who was still on his pad, awaited instruction.

“Sword!” Rae commanded, rushing to Five's side. The salarian handed her the weapon without a second thought. She brandished it as though they were already surrounded.

“Five,” Song shouted to her friend, “what did you see?”

The salarian jogged to her side. “There's a cave mouth in the side of the mountain to the right. If it's large enough we could all cram ourselves inside and hide out.”

“Right,” Song set her jaw. She knew without looking that at least the asari were already heading in their direction. Perhaps they had even been tipped off by their guards, or the game makers looking to force a good show, that Yellow had their flag.

“What do we do?” Rae asked, turning to face the oncoming Blue Team, her sword trembling visibly as she held it clumsily before her.

“Head for the cave!” Song didn't need to ponder this one. She shifted her polearm to one hand and grabbed Brute with the other. “Come on!” To her dismay the krogan barely budged.

“Go,” he said, milky eyes staring past her at the wall. “I'll act as rear guard.”

“Like hell you will!” Song hauled on his arm. It was like trying to move a tree. “Get your ass moving, I need someone to train me how to use this damn polearm!” She shook the weapon for emphasis, though the gesture was pointless.

“Song, come on!” Five shouted. Everyone else was already most of the way to the little hood of rock that partially hid the cave entrance. He slowed, ready to turn back for her.

“Brute!” Song turned to face the krogan, tucking her polarm into her armpit and grabbing both his meaty shoulders, his scars rough under her palms. “You said you wouldn't hinder Yellow Team. This is what hindering looks like! You have to train us all how to survive out here, now move!”

Reluctantly he took a step. “I can still see it,” he mumbled, almost inaudible, taking another step as Song tugged at him. “The sunlight. It's like a joke. I keep waiting for my vision to clear, to adjust, but it never does,” he raised his head as if watching the repetitive clouds that hove their same paths across the false sky.

“Brute, come on!” Song pleaded. The asari were in full view now, and they had clearly spotted the krogan out in the open. “Blue Team is here, we have to go!”

“Leave, Song.” Brute turned from her, facing the oncoming team.

“No!” she snarled, She grasped her polearm with both hands again and took a position beside the krogan, close enough so that her leg was partially tucked behind his so he could feel where she was.

This action seemed to catch Brute off guard and he chuckled, “are you sure you're a human? More like one of those idiot turians.”

“Whatever I am, I'm about to be dead because of you.” Song braced her feet in the loose pebbles, hoping her stance was correct. She seemed to have left panic behind and passed on to numbness.

The asari swarmed in, snatching up their flag easily, some of their number running away with it back to their side of the hill where an easier climb awaited them. The rest were taking in Song and her large companion with interest. “Well,” one of them spoke, her voice a purr as blue energy erupted around her hands, “this is unexpected. Thanks for the points, Yellow Team.”

Song felt an electric charge in the air as biotics thrummed to life. What a stupid way to die, she thought disjointedly. She should have just left the old krogan to rot. The force of the biotic bubble that struck her launched Song into the air. It felt like she left her stomach behind her as her world spun, sky-ground-sky-ground. She landed hard, smashing first into the side of the mountain, then hitting the gravel with a crunch. Her right arm exploded with pain and she bit down hard on the inside of her own cheek to keep from screaming. She curled up into a ball, hoping the asari would make it quick now that they had toyed with her a bit.

Every moment that Song was braced for death was a moment in hell, but that pesky, persistent part of her was still very much alive, and she was listening. The sounds of proper fight finally forced Song's eyes open and she uncurled slightly to see. Yellow Team had re-emerged from their cave and charged Blue. Song doubted little could have been more surprising to the asari. An assault by house flies would have seemed more likely. Song wanted to shout for her people to retreat, but if she opened her mouth she suspected nothing would come out but a wail of pain. She cradled her arm as she lay on her side, becoming aware of several other spots where she'd been bruised, possibly broken. For the moment she watched, disconnected from the scene playing out before her.

Five was mobile, whipping his daggers into enemy ranks with astounding speed, if not precision. Cale was wielding Five's sword as well as his own, and try as they might the asari could not land a clean hit as he dodged doggedly. Their biotics winged him repeatedly, knocking him this way or that, but never striking him down. Even Rae was holding her own, but the real one to watch was Brute. He simply charged straight ahead into the baffled ranks of the asari, smashing them aside with his body, seemingly able to shrug off their biotic attacks. He roared like a wild animal and headbutted the nearest enemy so hard she toppled one of her comrades on her way to the ground.

Song struggled to her knees, still staring at the fight as though seeing it from afar. Watching it on of her screens back home. Her polearm was laying where it had fallen not two feet from her. She gritted her teeth, reaching for a medigel with her good hand, fumbling it loose. The smooth canister slipped out of her fingers and rolled away. “Fuck,” she snarled, trying for another one.

“To your left!” Shouted Cale to Brute. The krogan bore left, slammed one of their attackers against the arena wall. She yelped in pain as the giant crushed her with all his weight until she sagged like a rag doll, falling limply to the ground when Brute finally released her.

Blue Team, forced into close combat, decided weapons rather than biotics were called for. Though one still managed to use her powers to grab little Rae and lift the struggling drell into the air before dropping her on Five. The salarian stumbled, losing control of his daggers as Rae crashed onto him.

An asari with skin so dark it nearly purple, slashed with a long weapon that looked like a nicer version of Song's, catching Cale across the ribs. He staggered to the side, hand clutched over the wound, dropping one of his swords.

“Get Song!” Brute ordered. Could he sense the fight was going south? He was already bleeding from several of his own wounds, which he didn't seem to notice in the slightest.

Cale turned, lurching clear of the fight and another blow from the long weapon. He hit the dirt and rolled, had obvious difficulty rising, then surged to his feet and reached Song's side. “Can you walk?”

Cale's voice finally snapped Song from her stupor. She shook her head to clear it, struggling to ignore the pain searing up her arm with each heartbeat. “Yes,” she said between clenched teeth. She reached again towards her weapon and Cale set it into her good hand. Song used the polearm to haul herself upright, then, following Cale, rushed away from the fighting towards what she desperately hoped was a safe haven and not a kill-sack where the asari could more easily slaughter them all.

The cave, partially obscured by an outcropping, was bigger than Song had thought it would be. Large enough even to house Brute if the krogan ever decided to join them. Once they reached the cave mouth Song turned back, exhaling a relieved breath when she saw Five and Rae rushing to join her. Best of all, Brute was bringing up the rear, holding Rae's hand as she led him. Song and Cale took defensive positions on either side of the cave mouth as their friends darted inside. Song knew she couldn't wield her new polearm one handed, but she brandished it none the less. The asari didn't seem inclined to follow. Their people were likely already fighting for the capture point at the top of the hill and the rest of Blue was eager to help.

“That's right, Yellow!” One of the asari shouted. “Get back to your hole and hide where you belong!”

Rae stood in the cave mouth and made several rude gestures. It did not seem to matter that her middle fingers were fused, she managed. Song had to herd the drell back inside with her polearm before Rae began shouting obscenities. With Rae safely away Song turned and watched as the asari jogged off towards easier paths up the hill, carrying their wounded in case Yellow Team got ideas about easy kills. The thought made Song nauseated, or maybe that was the pain in her arm. “They're leaving,” She reassured her friends, moving away from the entrance.

The cave itself was shallow and slightly damp. Song had to admire the craftsmanship. Someone had put some work into this little section of the arena, complete with lichen and a few holographic snails slithering about. A wave of pain nearly knocked Song over and she sagged against the wall, struggling to pull her mind away from the hurt and to focus on her people. It took her two tries to speak because her lungs were tight as fists. “Is... is everyone alright?”

“Ish,” Cale said. He too was leaning for support near the entrance, hand clasped over the bleeding wound that crossed his ribs.

“I'm okay,” Rae piped up. Song gave the girl a once over with her eyes. The drell bore several cuts and pink hot-spots that would be bruises in time, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. Her eyes were as bright and fiercely determined as ever and she looked far more pissed than injured.

“Five?”

“Nothing broken,” the salarian answered. He didn't look happy, favoring one of his legs, but Song saw little bleeding. He kept glowering at Rae, though it had not been her fault that she'd knocked him down. At least he had been able to collect up his daggers during the retreat Son noted gratefully.

Song finally turned her attention to Brute, who had plopped himself down at the back of the cave and was wearing an almost insane expression of glee. Biting back against the screaming stabs of pain surging up her arm, Song marched over to the krogan and stood directly in front of him, close enough that she knew he sensed her there. “What. The fuck. Was that?” Her words were so harsh and loud that the others flinched.

Brute didn't answer, instead laughing his low, abrupt laugh in her face. “Heh heh heh heh.”

“You said you wouldn't hinder our team! What the fuck would you call what you just pulled?!”

“You would have gotten to safety.” He picked up one of the small rocks that littered the cave floor, idly turning it over and over in his hand.

“And we would have been down one teacher.” Song planted her good hand against his broad shoulder, more for support than emphasis, but she wasn't about to let him know that. The krogan was bleeding from several places, including a wide gash just above his left eye, but Song knew none of his wounds were even close to being fatal for him.

“The asari probably would have left me alone.”

“Unless you threw yourself at them because you have a death wish,” Song shouted in his face.

“Shhhhh,” Cale warned, peering out the opening into the canned sunlight.

“If you really mean what you say about hindering this team, then you won't pull shit like that again!” Song snarled.

Brute seemed to consider this. “The krogan people understand that everyone has a place in life. When one member of the team cannot be of use in battle, the time for that warrior's light has ended. All he can hope for is to trip up the enemy so the others might fulfill their victory.”

“We don't need someone to trip our enemies,” Five spoke. He too had eased himself to the floor, massaging his injured leg gingerly. “We need a teacher.”

“And if I cannot be what you want?” Brute tilted his head up, attempting to look Song in the face, but instead staring blankly over her shoulder.

“We're not going to let you kill yourself. That's just how this is going to work.” Song squeezed his shoulder so hard her fingers hurt. “They put you on Yellow Team because we're too weak to kill you ourselves, or to protect you in the arena. The game makers want you to go out fighting in a blaze of glory fitting of whatever character they've built up for you in their heads.” Song had no idea if she was correct about this, but the words kept tumbling from her lips so she pressed on. “You said that the game makers dig themselves into a trap assuming things about us. They assumed we'd let you die, but that's not going to happen. You're going to train us and we're going to show those muu who is really powerful around here!”

“Fuck yeah!” Rae cheered, pumping her fist in the air.

Song stared fiercely into the krogan's scarred and wrinkled face, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Then she turned away and vomited on her own boots.

A hand rested on her back as she heaved, the pain in her arm almost overwhelming. Probably broken in multiple places, she mused disjointedly as her breakfast splattered onto the floor. When she had finished she wiped her mouth with her good hand and looked up to find it was Brute who had touched her. His expression was stoney, but his tone gentle, “alright, little one.”

Song straightened, though Brute did not remove his hand. “What did you say?” she asked, her throat burning like she'd just helped herself to a cup of fire.

“I said, alright.” Brute's lip curled slightly, showing a few of his teeth in a grimace. “I believed what the game makers wished me too. That Yellow wouldn't be able to kill me, or protect me. I... I will not stand to be protected, but... but I don't need eyes to see how I was fooled. Heal your arm, warrior, and I'll teach you to use your polearm.”

“We try to spare the medigel,” Song said as she allowed Brute to support her for the moment.

“The medigel will be replaced next match. This fight is far from over, but it is no longer ours. Let the other teams slaughter one another for the hilltop.” Brute reached for his own belt, deftly drawing one of his medigel free. He turned the ring in the center and a needle appeared.

Song took the canister and injected herself swiftly. As the pain in her arm dulled she became more aware of her other bumps and scrapes, but it was nothing to the relief of feeling the breaks begin to mend themselves. The arm would be sore for days, she knew, but it didn't matter.

“So, Song just gave a speech about how we're not what the game makers expect, and yet here we are, cowering in a cave just like they wanted,” Rae griped. She squatted beside Cale, scratching in the grit with her sword tip.

“It's our punishment,” Five said, shooting Song a concerned glance. She nodded that she was feeling better so he went on. “They even gave us this cave for ultimate humiliation. We're supposed to fit back into our role. Doomed underdogs. That ass kicking by the asari probably made them even more pleased. Then we trail our sorry asses in here and lick our wounds while the rest of the teams win points.”

“Do you think we'll be allowed to fight again next time?” Rae asked.

“What do you call what we were doing out there?” Cale asked, gesturing out of the cave mouth with a blood streaked arm.

“You know what I mean,” Rae huffed. She tugged one of her own medigel free of her belt and before Cale could protest, broke it open. She coated her fingers in the stuff and motioned for Cale to let her at his wound. He grumbled as she worked, spreading the gel over the gash, but didn't fight her.

“I'm sure things will go back to normal next fight.” Five rested his head against the cave wall. “The game makers just wanted to punish us and prove a point.”

“Right,” Song agreed. She stood at the back of the cave with Brute, who was already artfully arranging her posture with the polearm. Standing behind her he moved her arms as he led her through several attack patterns. Song was eager to learn and gave all her attention to the task. Now that her people were out of danger she was able to focus her thoughts more readily. Maybe she was becoming the leader everyone thought she was, she mused, her arm twinging as she tried the three swings Brute had just shown her.

Their little section of the arena was quite for some time. Cale and Rae played a game in the dirt that involved places Xs and Os on a grid. Song focused on her training, already getting a feel for the stance, how to attack and retreat and how to keep her enemy in range of her blade. Every motion she practiced felt more correct, as though she had been made for this and never known. Years of playing with a child, carrying laundry, reading bedtime stories. None of that mattered now that she had a weapon and was learning to use it. In this moment her old life was a formless dream.

Cale who was sitting closest to the door, have a low whistle. Song stopped mid swing, her heart jumping to her throat. “What is it?” she asked as her friend positioned himself to peer cautiously outside.

Five grabbed Rae and pulled her further into the cave. She might have protested, but seemed to sense the need for silence, though she glared resentfully. Song inched forward, polearm held close to her side, ready in a stabbing grip.

Cale turned and mouthed to her 'salarian'.

'Grey Team?' she mouthed back.

Cale shook his head and raised one finger. Song cocked and eyebrow, set aside her weapon, and slunk stealthily to Cale's side, hunkering down at his shoulder to peer between two rocks. Cale was correct. There was a single salarian outside, moving silently and with obvious caution. He hadn't spotted the cave yet, or if he had believed it to be empty. Song tried to still her breathing, finding it unreasonably loud.

The salarian kept shooting glances over his shoulders as he moved. Song wondered if he could feel their eyes on him. After scanning his surroundings thoroughly he squatted, his back to them, fiddling with someone on the ground. Was he picking up rocks? Song squinted, unable to see what he was doing. Instead she made quick observations about him, wishing that Rae was able to be quiet enough to join them so the little drell could memorize what she saw. This salarian had green skin punctuated by streaks of yellow. One of his horns was slightly sorter than the other and he had a face that was more square than Five's. Other than that she couldn't get much of a read on him, not being familiar with salarians.

After a few moments of working in the loose stones beside the outer wall the salarian stood, glanced around again, the darted away in the direction he had come. Song exhaled the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. She and Cale sat still for a few extra moments, in case the stranger came back, before they finally relaxed. Song looked at Cale who shrugged. “Probably planting one of their mines,” he said.

“Over here? Why?” Song squinted at the spot where a few pebbles still looked disturbed. 

“So?” Rae darted forward and stood on tiptoe to see past Five. “What are those murder twigs up to this time?”

Five let out a snort of laughter.

Rae pouted her lip. “What? I'm now allowed to make up silly names for things? The rest of you do.”

“No, that was a good one,” Five patted Rae on the shoulder approvingly.

“Well?” Brute asked, gazing in Song's direction.

She and Cale explained what they'd seen. “He was probably just placing some of their hand made explosives, but I don't know why he'd bother with them over here. No team in their right mind would try to climb the hill from our side.”

The krogan rubbed his chin thoughtfully, idly scratching the folds of skin on his thick neck. “Something worth keeping an eye on. I don't know what that salarian was up to, but you can bet it isn't good.”

“Good for the game makers or for us?” Cale asked, lowering himself back to a sitting position.

“Maybe both,” Brute shrugged. “Alright. I've done about all I can with Song for the moment. She needs to drill her attacks and blocks until they're as natural as breathing. Who else would like some lessons?”

“ME!” Rae bounced into the air, then clamped a hand over her mouth, blushing and ashamed. “Sorry,” she whispered between her fingers.

“Fine enthusiasm, little sister. No one's broken your spirit,” chuckled Brute, reaching out and managing to find Rae to pat her on the head again. She did not seem to mind as much this time.

Cale and watched Rae's lesson as Five stood guard at the cave mouth and Song went over her motions with the polearm again and again until sweat streamed from her and she thought her arms might fall off. It felt good to imagine an enemy at the end of her polearm. She skewered imaginary asari, then krogan, and even a few humans. Finally she envisioned one of the muu, looking haughty and smug. She brought her blade down through its shoulder, cleaving all the way to its hip, slicing a perfect red line across its body.

GONG!

Snap!

Song yelped as her cuffs clanked together, nearly slashing herself in the face as she lost her footing and her grip on her weapon at the same time. She hit the stones with a painful crunch, landing on her bad arm. Behind her she heard the rest of her team hit the dirt with grunts of discomfort.

“Do they have to do that?” Cale complained. She heard him scrabbling around, no doubt trying to get into a more comfortable position. “Don't they know that Yellow Team isn't a threat?”

“Speak for yourself,” said Rae.

Song almost chuckled at the little drell's bravado, but instead let her face settle into its blank mask in preparation for the guards. It wasn't long before Nara and Ric tracked them down. “Almost like they knew where to find us,” Cale joked as his leg cuffs were freed and he was able to stand.

Both guards walked right over the spot where the salarian has been digging and Song unconsciously braced for an explosion, but none came. She supposed all the explosives were deactivated remotely at the end of each match to see the salarians from murdering any guards.

Ric and Nara checked them over for injuries. “Do we send the krogan to the infirmary?” Ric asked, casting his gaze over Brute's numerous bleeding wounds.

“Might as well,” Nara shrugged as she casually prodded Cale with the butt of her baton where the cut on his ribs had been. Cale swatted her baton away and she flipped it around to reward him with a quick zap. He doubled over, but raised his head, smiling defiantly at Song. Song held her amusement in check as Nara strolled over to Brute. “This one has a death wish. No good leaving him with open wounds he can dig around in to keep himself bleeding.”

Song's stomach gave a sick little squeeze at the thought.

“It would take me days to bleed to death that way, human,” Brute said.

“Days you have in abundance. Not to mention the mess you'd make. No one wants to deal with that.” Nara pointed out as she turned expectantly to the rest of the group. She planted Brute's hand on her shoulder, obviously deeming him unworthy of a stretcher. “Get moving.”

Yellow was herded meekly out of the arena. There were a lot of wounded this time, as well as dead. Song scanned for turians. A stretcher slipped in front of her, soaked in blue blood. The figure on the stretcher was covered so she couldn't see who it was and her heart did a panicked little dance until Cale touched her arm, pointing.

Song was careful not to turn too abruptly. Septimus was standing with a few other members of Green. His bow was slung across his shoulders and if he was injured it wasn't badly. Song willed him to look at her and after a moment he did. His eyes were hollow, sad. How bad had the punishment been for their team? How many had they lost? She didn't see Empress and could only hope that the turian leader was one of the wounded that had already been taken to the infirmary. She gave Septimus a nod. After a moment he returned it, flaring his mandibles slightly to indicate he was glad to see her. She wished she knew how to be more expressive with her face to share the same with him. Perhaps he understood.

“Well?” Ric was standing close to them, keeping his voice low. “That wasn't so bad was it? Just a little slap on the wrist from the game makers to keep everyone playing fair.”

Song wanted to shout in his face that nothing about this was fair. Had he even noticed the very team he was in charge of guarding? How they had pathetic weapons, fewer members, and no chance of winning except by luck? Song ground her teeth and was glad Cale was there to flirt with Ric and brush off the whole experience. They were children who had made a silly mistake and received reasonable punishment from a caregiver.

Song looked up again, this time at the salarian team. The green skinned one she had spotted before was standing with his teammates. They had fared well with only a few of theirs being taken to the infirmary. Song wondered who had actually won the match. More than that, however, she wanted to know what that salarian had been doing rooting around in the pebbles near their cave. Something she couldn't quite place told her that it had been more than a simple explosive trap he'd been working on, but she suspected she'd never find out exactly what it had been. No harm in keeping her eyes open, Song assured herself as she and the uninjured members of Yellow Team were taken back to their new room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Brute. Not understanding that Song doesn't leave a man behind. It just doesn't seem to be in her. Brute is fast becoming the 'dad' of the group. The huge, potentially suicidal, totally murderous dad. As it should be. Now what are those 'murder twigs' the salarians up to? You'll have to keep reading to find out!
> 
> I am hopeful you'll have your next chapter on time and I won't have to almost die in a car crash to get it to you ;)


	16. True Colors

Chapter 16  
True Colors

“Can I ask you something?” Song turned to face Dawn, the warm water of her shower a soothing tingle against her bruised skin.

The younger slave blinked, startled from her own thoughts. “O-of course.”

“I know it's a silly question. It's just, some of my teammates aren't careers and they have these crazy notions of... escaping. It's insane and I've told them so, but I wish I had some examples to give them. I was wondering if you have ever seen anyone try, and what happened to them?” Song casually lathered herself with the unscented square of soap she'd been supplied. She felt like she was pretending to be Cale, with all his smooth lines and enticing smiles. She decided not to try a smile.

“I don't think anyone has,” Dawn cast her blue-grey eyes towards the ceiling. “At least not since I've been here.” Her mouth twisted in consideration, “there is this older guard I hear talking sometimes. I don't like him. He smacks me on the ass every time I get to close to him.”

Sing almost snorted with laughter to hear Dawn say 'ass' in her demure voice. “He sounds like a real champ. What does he say?” Song asked.

“Mostly he complains about his job.” Dawn put on a gruff, over the top masculine rumble, “'I've been doing this job for forty years and nobody understands how good they have it now.'” Song let Dawn revel in amusement at her imitation of the guard. Even as she longed for Dawn to drift back to the subject of escapes, she didn't dare ask again.

Her heart was already speeding up the way it did in the arena at the thought of a freedom she had no memory of tasting. It was frightening to suddenly desire something she didn't fully understand, but she was coming to realize the side of her that had learned to be a good and obedient slave was dying a slow death. How long would it be before she was as insane as Cale? What has she been before she was 'Song the slave?' Was she meeting that young person more and more every day?

“Anyway,” Dawn waved her hand dismissively. “He complained about a few times when people tried to escape. Mostly before we had the tech that we do now. The doors didn't close as well, or the stun batons were faulty. Some excuse for how the fighters got out.”

“So shoddy equipment allowed the escapes?” Song lifted an eyebrow as she finished rinsing the last of the chalky soap from her skin and stepped from the shower. Dawn passed her a towel.

“I guess,” the quiet slave shrugged, eyes downcast. She seldom met Song's gaze even though technically they were on the same rung of the pecking order. Perhaps arena slaves were afforded a tiny bit of respect among those who merely worked at the station. Dawn wrinkled her nose slightly before pressing on, “I mean, the slaves who escaped... I think they were the smart ones. The guards never knew how smart. When that guard talks about them he pretends they're dumb, but I know that those slaves couldn't have gotten as far as they did without being smarter than the system.” Dawn's voice was rising bit by bit, as though a little part of her fought for freedom too. Much smaller than the fighter inside Song, but still there and struggling against her bonds. Then Dawn blushed furiously and turned her head away as though Song had struck her. “I should not be talking about this with you. Even if it is just to help you convince your team that trying to escape would be stupid. All those slaves got caught. I don't think they liked what happened to them next.”

Dawn refused to say anything more as she handed Song her clothes and led her back into their new room. Song hurried to the far end where her friends were already gathering. Brute was not back yet, but Song suspected they wouldn't wait long. His wounds hadn't been severe, even by non-krogan standards.

“God I love showers,” Cale stretched, showing off the rippling muscles of his chest and arms.

Rae pulled off her boots, preferring to go barefoot. She plopped down on her bed, tucking up her feet to sit in lotus position and looking pleased. “We kicked ass today!”

“You call hiding in a cave hoping not to die 'kicking ass?' Five cocked his head. He was still limping slightly and sat down on his own bed to work the kinks out of his leg.

“Before that part,” Rae said, beginning to stretch her arms across her chest the way Song had taught them. “I'm talking about when we realized Song and Brute weren't with us so we went charging back out of the cave and kicked some asari backside.”

Song allowed an amused smile to flit across her face. She was finding she had less desire for her emotionless mask when she was around her team these days. The guards still received a healthy dose of it. “I don't know. I broke my arm and lay in the gravel most of the fight,” Song pointed out. “that wasn't very 'kick ass'”

“Well, first you stood with Brute when he didn't want to go back to the cave. That's was brave.” Rae said.

“Should have left him,” Five grouched.

“Five?” Cale tilted his head questioningly at the salarian.

Five sighed. “Alright, I didn't mean that. I know you don't leave people behind, Song. If you did, Cale and I would both be dead.”

“Both of you can shut up about me and how brave I am,” Song shot back, more annoyed that flattered. “Brute probably would have been fine. The asari could have ignored him completely if they felt like it. If he didn't attack them they'd have an easier time than anyone else retrieving their flag.”

“I wonder who won the match,” Rae mused, raising her clasped hands over her head and stretching her back.

The door snapped open and Brute was shoved inside. He stumbled and Ebb and Mordo laughed behind him. Song moved quickly, grabbing Brute's arm and steadying him. She managed to keep emotions under control and her head lowered like a good slave. Cale was on his feet, fuming and calling the guards names as they laughed and the door slammed shut. “You okay, big guy?” Cale asked their largest teammate as Song led him to his bed.

“Fine,” Brute answered as he lowered himself stiffly to sit.

“Dicks,” Song muttered in her breath, shooting a glance towards the door.

Brute chuckled at this for a few moments before his features settled into their own still facade. Song reasoned he had more practice than she did.

Rae sat forward, bringing her chest to her folded legs, demonstrating her flexibility. “Did you happen to hear who won the match?”

“Blue.”

“Really? Even after they had to deal with us?” Rae cocked her head.

“Oh yes, we're so deadly,” Five snorted as he too began his own stretches, still favoring his leg.

“They had the advantage of biotics,” Brute pointed out.

“Nothing like throwing your enemy off the top of a mountain,” Cale agreed.

“And with Green out of the picture they had less competition than usual. At least, that was the gossip in the infirmary.” The krogan grunted, shifting with a faint grimace.

Song leaned in so the others wouldn't hear. “Are you alright?”

The faintest hint of a smile pulled his wide mouth. “These old bones just can't take as much fighting without complaint any more.”

“Well, you did fight pretty hard,” Song nudged his leg with her knee in what she hoped he would interpret as a comradely gesture. He didn't pull her arms out of their sockets so she assumed her point was made. “You taught he some really good polearm moves back there. Though-” she added hurriedly, “I haven't mastered them yet, so I still need a teacher. We all do.”

“I want to learn more,” agreed Rae enthusiastically.

“I haven't even started my lessons,” Cale put in.

“Alright,” the krogan raised both hands as though fending off a flock of birds. “Your point is made. I will continue with your training.”

“Thank you,” Song said daring to pat Brute on the shoulder as she moved away to find space for her own stretching routine.

~~~~~

Though they had been sleeping in the cavernous room for a week, it still felt strange to Song. Open and unprotected. The sounds of her friends breathing was still nearby, but she felt exposed, even tucked away in the corner nearest the door. Some nights that feeling woke her and she had to force herself back to sleep. Tonight it came coupled with memories from the arena. How easily the asari had batted her aside as though she were nothing. A leaf caught on an updraft. Her arm throbbed dully and she lay on her back, staring at the deeply uninteresting ceiling for several moments, hopping it would lull her back to sleep. When this failed she began listening to, and picking apart, everyone's breathing patterns as they slept. Cale had an almost-snore going on. Five was the quietest. Song turned her head to look at the bed beside her to watching Brute's chest rise and fall.

She almost jumped out of her skin when she was met with his open, unseeing eyes. A faint squeak escaped her and she nearly began laughing at her own jumpiness. Her brows came together. Was the krogan awake, or sleeping with his eyes open? If he couldn't see anyhow, did it really matter if they were shut? She recalled what he'd said in the arena. The cruel joke of it, him being able to see light and dark. Endlessly waiting for his vision to clear. Her chest tightened in sympathy.

“Are you staring at me?” Brute's voice was a whisper.

Song almost toppled off her bed, slapping a hand over her mouth so she didn't wake anyone else. “Fuck, Brute, you startled me.”

A satisfied smile spread over his face as Brute blinked lazily in her direction. “Sometimes I can tell when someone is looking at me. I can almost feel their intensity.”

“Huh,” Song settled onto her back, clasping her hands over her stomach. She turned her head to face Brute again, his eyes like twin moons shining faintly in the dim light of the glowing tables.

“Are you still upset over what happened in the arena?” He asked.

“I'm always upset after an arena day,” Song sighed. “Nothing ever goes the way I hope and we always nearly die. This time was a bit of a new experience.”

“I imagine.”

Song ached to ask the krogan so many questions. About his life. His team. His time in the arena. She guessed she would get precious few answers. They both fell silent for a long moment. She thought he might have fallen asleep this time, eyes still wide and staring. When he did speak Song realized that she too had been about to drift off. “I didn't plan anything for myself after today. Today was supposed to be...it.”

Song turned onto her side towards the krogan. “You're not going to try again are you? Because you know what'll happen. I'll be there, getting tossed around like an idiot and you'll have to save my ass.”

“Your actions were unexpected,” Brute mused. “I have not worked with humans before. You behave differently than I anticipated.”

“Thank you?”

Brute's rattling, punctuated chuckle reverberated through the long room. “You can understand why...”

Song hesitated, an arrow of sadness stabbing into her chest. “I do. I really do.” Her eyes watered with unbidden tears. “And you know I can't let you.”

“I know...” He paused, the moment weighing heavy on the air, like someone pressing down on both their chests. “I cannot promise it will not happen again.”

Song winced. Her first instinct was to scold. To berate him for not only putting them all in mortal danger, but admitting that he might do the same again. Instead she reached across the gap between them and rested her hand on his arm. “This place is hell, but at least we can all be in hell together.”

Brute didn't answer and Song felt certain she had said the wrong thing. How could she claim to be with him when she could never understand his life or his experiences. She could see. The first part of her life had been relatively pleasant. Dealing with the occasional temper tantrum was nothing to fighting for your life every week in a pointless game that would eventually ask for the ultimate price. One Brute was now willing, even eager to pay and have done with. She envisioned a young krogan, unscarred and determined, fighting ruthlessly for his team. How long had Brute's spirit gone unbroken? What strength had it taken to finally shatter such a soul? She wanted to punch someone in the face. Preferably a muu.

After a long moment Song dared to look at her companion again, almost afraid to see those sightless eyes once again. Instead, they were shut. He'd fallen asleep. She kept her hand settled on his arm as she too let her eyes fall closed. She was carried away into dreams of battle and bloodshed, but every time she thought she was at the point of death, her younger version of Brute was there, ripping her enemy in half and laughing in their faces.

~~~~~

“Fresh meat coming in today.” Mordo commented as he led the slaves down the wide corridor towards breakfast. He gestured with his angular head to the window above. Song followed his gaze to take in the large slave ship docking with the station. It was bigger than any she had yet seen.

“That's a SkallBird,” Cale identified. “Batarian soldier transport modified to carry slaves.”

“Lovely,” Five watched the ship with distrustful eyes. Perhaps he had been inside one.

“The arenas have been pretty bloody the last few matches,” Ebb commented, idly swinging his baton. “About time we got some replacements.”

Song moved with the flow of the crowd, Brute's hand on her shoulder. He was soon swept away by his old team to the krogan food line, later to be deposited at Yellow table. Song wondered, as she elbowed her way in to attain her own meal, if he picked up any of the gossip and talk from his fellows. Would he share any of it with Yellow, or perhaps he'd reveal what Yellow Team was up to. She suspected he wouldn't do that, especially as there ultimately wasn't much to say.

As Song hove her way through the crowd she tried to catch an early glimpse of the turian table so see if Empress was still alive. Someone bumped her arm forcefully, nearly dislodging her tray. She gritted her teeth in frustration and angled herself more defensibly as the one who had shoved her muttered, “out of my way, human.”

“Septimus?” She raised her chin, meeting his shining, emerald gaze. He flashed a smile, mandibles spreading in the most earnest expression Song had seen from him.

“Hey,” he said, shouldering her lightly, making a show of looking annoyed for the benefit anyone who might observe their interaction.

Song felt relatively certain they were being ignored, except by the watchful eyes of Cale, who had helped Rae to her own food line, then joined the human one. “How's Green Team, everyone alright?” Song asked.

“Not really,” Septimus shrugged. “Empress is furious.”

“She's alive then? Good.”

“Not if you have to deal with her,” Septimus moved Song out of the path of three asari while making it look as though he was shoving her. She pushed back, though not so much as to catch guard attention. He lowered his head to continue speaking. “She says the alliance was a bad idea. She's mad that we lost so many because the game makers wanted to punish us.”

“So she'd not interested in alliances in the future?” 

“It's a good bet she's not.” Septimus shook his head sadly. “It was fine while is lasted, but we have to go back to the status quo.”

“I'm sorry,” Song said, and she meant it. She tilted her head back to look into Septimus lean, predatory face. His features were so youthful, so unbefitting of one who fought for his life weekly. If he stayed here long enough would be become like Brute? The thought clawed in her chest and she forced herself to think of something else.

“I'm not sorry,” Septimus gave her a roguish grin. “It felt good to be with Yellow again. A little like old times.”

Song rewarded the turian was a quick smile of her own before looking past him to see Cale furiously signally at her that a guard was approaching. “I have to go.”

“Right,” Septimus dipped his head in a gesture of farewell. “Shove me.”

“Right.” Song slammed both her hands into his boney chest and sent him crashing back. She assumed his exaggerated stumble afterward intentional, but she wasn't certain as he caught his foot on the long spur of his other leg and toppled backwards into three humans. They all shouted and beat at him with their fists. Guards swarmed in to break up the scuffle and Song hunched her shoulders, hurrying to her table, unnoticed as ever.

“So Green Team don't want to be pals any more?” Cale said once they were all seated and Song recounted what she had learned.

“How's your friend?” Rae waggled her eyebrows at Song.

“He's fine.”

“Is he handsome?”

“Shut up, Rae.”

“Perhaps it is for the best,” Brute commented. “The game makers would notice us a great deal more if we continued to ally ourselves with Green. If we wish to remain as uninteresting as possible it would be wise to avoid further alliances.”

“Speaking of staying unnoticed,” Five spoke up, aiming his fork in the direction of an oncoming figure.

Song's heart tightened as a muu approached the table, flanked by two grouchy looking guards. The muu wore a white headdress trimmed with gold thread, which Song was beginning to understand denoted him as a game official of some kind. He folded his hands before him and smiled thinly over Yellow Team, his eyes coming to rest on Five. “That was an interesting display you put on yesterday, Yellow.”

“Thank you,” Cale answered loudly, already wearing his biggest, cockiest grin. He'd gotten his mask in place as quickly as Song could. She was impressed.

“I hope you have, however, learned something from the experience.”

“Oh, we have,” Cale clasped his hands demurely on the table and looked exaggeratedly contrite. Song had to poke Rae hard in the ribs to keep the drell from laughing.

“We've been watching you, master salarian,”

Five almost dropped his fork, but managed to collect himself in time, looking up tentatively. He said nothing, merely stared.

The game maker smiled again, unnervingly. The muu had the short, wide teeth of plant eaters, yet somehow the grin was still predatory. “We've been noticing that you have some... unusual talents.” Song could see Five begin to tremble and she reached to grasp his hand under the table. The muu went on. “These talents are a great boon to your team. I only hope they continue to serve you well. The audience is intrigued.”

Song squeezed Five's hand as the muu turned abruptly and scuttled away, clearly finished with them. “Fuck,” Five exhaled, running his free hand tensely over one of his horns.

“It's okay,” Cale reached across the table and settled his fingertips on Five's slender arm. “All they know you can do is the daggers thing. They have no idea about your other talent.”

“You mean the-” Rae began, but Song swung around and glared at the drell so hard she shrank back.

Five scowled at his food for several minutes before finally giving up and digging in again. Song and the others had become more accustomed to the smell and look of Brute's meals, and they too tucked into their food, keeping their uneasy thoughts to themselves.

Ric finally sauntered over to their table. It had taken him some time to work up the courage to approach them, especially as Brute sat in the outside spot, close to where the guard normally stood. However, it seemed the lure of flirting with Cale and sharing little tidbits with his favorite team were enough to draw him in at last.

“We spotted a new crop of slaves being brought in,” Cale leaned forward on his elbows, rewarding Ric for his visit with one of his biggest grins. “Any insight?”

“I haven't seen them yet,” Ric shook his head, eying Brute distrustfully before resting his hip against the table. “Big shipment I hear. The last few games were especially deadly so we can bring in more new blood.”

“New blood?” Rae looked up from her meal. “You mean the game makers wanted to kill all those players just so they could get new ones?”

“People get tired of watching the same players all the time. Not to mention the rating spike when favorites die. Everyone tunes in to watch and mourn.” Ric said.

“That's stupid,” spat Rae. “Who wants to watch a program to see your favorite person get killed so you can feel sad all day?”

“The muu,” Song answered. “They're not emotionless, but are encouraged not to express their feelings. Society frowns on it. They're fascinated by emotional beings like you and me, and our reactions to things like, say, the death of a friend and teammate.”

“So we're here to be killed off so the muu can live vicariously?” Rae asked, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, I suppose we're all supposed to die anyway. The whole 'underdog' thing, but that's still messed up.”

“Agreed,” mumbled Five without raising his head.

“Don't worry, you all are very entertaining,” Ric said, trying to be cheery. “As far as I know there aren't any plans in the works to finish you off just yet.”

“Small favors,” Song grumbled, prodding her fiber cube unenthusiastically.

“Well.” Ric leaned back on his heels. “The new recruits are being processed today and should be ready to join teams tomorrow. Maybe you'll get lucky and pick up a good one.”

Song could tell that Rae was about to take offense and she nudged the drell under the table with her foot. Cale quickly filled in, “If our luck holds out.”

~~~~~

The next day Song and all of Yellow Team watched interestedly as the new slaves were brought in. Several turians, a few humans, two asari and even a krogan. The new krogan looked like a handful. “Is... is he wearing a muzzle?” Song asked, trying to get a better view as the newcomer made his way to Red table, flanked by guards.

“Probably,” Brute said. Song had been describing the scene to him as he ate. “Sometimes the new ones are a bit.... upset at being captured. I wonder how many guards this one maimed before they restrained him.”

“This seems like a terrible idea,” Five said, eyes wide with concern. “Why use a race that's so powerful and dangerous?”

“Do I need to answer that?” Brute cocked a brow, gazing vaguely in Five's direction.

The salarian sighed and pursed thin lips, “I expect you all are very entertaining.”

“This one is getting the shit zapped out of him. I suppose that's entertaining,” Cale said, his own brows creasing in sympathy.

“Don't feel too bad, human. Odds are good he killed someone before he made it to the dining hall. We have to keep the guards in line somehow. Heh heh heh.” Brute chuckled. “Anything else going on, Song?”

“There's some kind of scuffle at the turian table,” Song squinted. So many guards were distracted by the new krogan that it took one of the muu speaking up to coax a few over to Green table. “All the new turians went to their table of course,” Song told Brute, standing up in her seat so she could see.

“Easily predicted,” mumbled the krogan.

“I can see Empress. She looks pissed, just like Septimus said.” Song continued.

“Where is lover boy?” Asked Rae craning her neck.

Song ignored the drell, trying to figure out what was going on. “So much for 'unit before blood', they're punching one another now.” Song said.

“Hmmmph,” Brute grunted. “Probably means some civilian who thinks he outranks Empress wants to take charge.”

“I don't think so,” Song said, she put her hand on Brute's shoulder to balance herself as she leaned, trying to see around guards and active Red Team.

“Odd,” Brute grasped her wrist to steady her. “I'd expect the asari or humans to fight over new members, not the turians.”

“Wait... this is strange. The guards have pulled one of the turians out. There's a muu there, overseeing... It's Septimus,” Song frowned. “Why is he being pulled from the turian ranks to talk to the muu?” She hesitated, “They're talking.”

“Pity none of us have exceptional hearing,” Cale said. “Is there a species who has that? We need one on our team.”

“I don't think so,” said Five. “Anybody read lips?”

“Wait,” Song gestured with her free hand to quiet her friends. “Now the game maker, Septimus, and two guards are heading this way.” She sat down hurriedly.

“What the fuck?” Cale asked as Yellow Team scrambled to arrange themselves so it looked as though they were eating quietly, not observing the room.

The muu and her entourage stopped at the end of Yellow table. She too wore the white headdress trimmed in gold that marked her as a game official. She looked over Yellow Team with obvious distaste, as though they were garbage on the floor someone had neglected to clean up. Song looked up at Septimus, who stood meekly between the two guards, head down. He had a small cut on the fleshy skin below one eye and his clothing looked a bit bedraggled, ripped at the sleeve and splattered with food.

“Ahem,” The muu began, seemingly uncertain how to address the odd collection of people before her. Brute turned his head in her direction to unnerve her further with his unseeing stare. Song found herself struggling to maintain her mask seeing the muu squirm. “Yellow Team, this turian has requested to be transferred.”

“What?” Cale's eyebrows shot up.

“You may accept or decline at your leisure.” The muu drawled, making a point of avoiding looking at Brute all together.

“We get a choice about him, but not about the krogan you gave us last week?” Cale scoffed.

“That is correct,” the game maker answered.

“Alright,” Cale's glance drifted over the team. Song could tell he was uncomfortable with the idea of making the choice for everyone. Especially as he was the mouthpiece for the team, not it's true leader. “Can we... can we talk it over?”

“No.”

“Right. Uhm... alright. He can join.”

“The choice is made,” the game maker proclaimed in an official tone. A datapad hovered up from a pouch at her belt. Her skillful biotics crackled as she tapped a few buttons on the pad, then cast her stern glare over Yellow Team. “As you were,” she snapped before turning away, her four sharp feet clacking against the floor.

“Welcome to your new team,” one of the guards, a surly batarian, growled. He shoved Septimus to sit, causing him to collide with Five who hurried to make room.

Septimus said nothing, merely looked ashamed, eyes not meeting any of his new teams'. Five sat between Song and the turian and she leaned around her lanky friend to try to look their latest member in the eyes. “What happened?”

“I'm sorry,” Septimus said. His mandibles tucked tightly against his jaws, an indication of supreme discomfort. “I... I knew I shouldn't press the issue, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head. How if Yellow and Green continued to ally, we could really mess with the game makers. Empress had enough of me.” He shrugged.

“So she sent you over here?” Rae asked. She seemed to be taking the turian in fully for the first time. Song wondered if the little drell was trying to figure out why anyone could find such a creature attractive.

Septimus grimaced. “Well, she told me to shut up. I did. But then we got the new recruits and some of them were giving her a hard time, as they usually do, but that put her over the edge. Before you know it we were fighting and I got in her way so... yeah, she told me to leave. She said I was never truly loyal to the unit. My loyalty would always be with my old team and she was sorry she'd ever let me join Green.”

“That's rough,” Rae said, huffing out an impressed breath.

“I erm... I hate to ask, seeing as you just have something a little bit, well, unpleasant happen to you... but did you happen to find out if the game makers will let you keep your weapons?” Cale asked.

“Doubtful,” Septimus answered. “It would give you too much advantage so Empress would never allow my bow to go with me.”

“Well, we've got an arrow,” Five joked. “You're half way there!”

Song leaned around Five and extended her hand towards the turian. “I know this isn't how you would have wanted it to go, but... welcome back to Yellow Team.” She said.

Septimus looked at her, mingling confusion and what might have been well hidden pleasure warring on his angular features. “You're not upset to have been saddled with another weaponless burden.”

“We all started out that way,” Cale said, gesturing around the group with his fork. “You'll fit right in.”

Septimus looked at Song's hand, still opened towards him. Gingerly he set his into hers and she gave it a firm shake. She hadn't expected the texture of his skin. It was warmer than she thought it would be and rough, but not unpleasantly so. After her handshake the rest of Yellow Team offered their own greetings to Septimus.

“Welcome, turian,” Brute said. “We are the few, the damned, the defiant.”

“I like that,” Rae said as she too shook hands. Song was endlessly amazed by the way little Rae seemed to forget what awaited them in the arena every week. She wondered where the drell drew her hope and fortitude from.

“Thanks,” Septimus nodded and clasped Brute's hand. “I've been an admirer of yours from afar for some time.”

“Have you?” Brute's small nostrils flared. “Well, I suspect your admiration of me will shrink considerably once you have spent some time here.”

“Never.” Septimus was already perking up. His mandibles spread as he took in his new Yellow Team. Song wondered if he was remembering how it had been before, when he had originally been a member. She could only hope she and her friends could bring him the same feeling of 'clan' that he craved, without repeating their predecessor’s eventual fate.

 

Here's Brute and Five, because I love them! They are also a fan favorite!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter might have been a bit slow. We still have to deal with the aftermath of Brute's suicide attempt as well as that pesky alliance still hanging around. Maybe things will have settled down now? I find it doubtful. But hey, Septimus is here, back with Yellow Team! How will he fit in with the group? Can Song get her crush on?
> 
> I will endeavor to have a new chapter for you on time next week. I am working on a LOT of my own original art, so I have less time for this, but I'll try.


	17. Taste of Victory

Chapter 17  
Taste of Victory

“So, this is where we live,” Cale spread is arms as though introducing Septimus to their barracks.

“Is this like your old place?” Rae asked, bouncing over to her bed and plopping down.

“For the most part.” The turian stood back, hands clasped timidly. It was obvious that, while he was pleased to be back with Yellow Team, he was uncertain where he fit with this new version. “Ours was... cleaner.”

“Of course it was,” Five chuckled. “Of course we'd be housed in the shitty barracks.

“Here, Septimus, you can pick any of these beds you like.” Song guided Brute to his bed and then gestured at the rest of the room.

Septimus hesitated, then moved to the cot just beyond Brute's on Song's side of the room. She couldn't help the gratified feeling that spread warmly through her as he chose to be on her side, in spite of the krogan. Then again he had mentioned being an admirer of their most intimidating teammate, so his choice likely had nothing to do with Song.

Septimus moved cautiously to his new bed and investigated it. After a moment he located a small lever on the side and pulled. The head of the bed popped up to sit at an angle. Everywhere stared. He turned shyly to them and shrugged. “Turians sleep upright.”

“That's interesting,” Rae said before she leaned off the side of her bed and found that it too had a lever. She spent several minutes testing the adjustments before she grew bored and settled down.

“At the beginning of our day we work out,” Song nodded to Septimus, trying to keep the awkwardness she felt from seeping into her voice. “You can join if you'd like.”

“I think... I think I'll watch for the moment.” Septimus' voice was gentler than Song had heard since they had been in the infirmary together. She wanted to go reassure him, put a hand on his shoulder or pat his hand, but it seemed unbecoming of her, as the leader of Yellow. She was left baffled in the face of this strange new dynamic. To look at him, not as a handsome member of Green Team, but as someone who would fall under her command. What if he didn't like her giving the orders? What if he thought she was a poor leader? Empress was certainly impressive, could Song ever hope to compare? She knew that he had long ago guessed she was the one giving orders. He came to her when he had answers or issues, but how would it be now?

The rest of Yellow was already moving through their daily workout. Even Brute joined them for some of the motions. Usually he kept himself oriented in the room with one hand on his bed, or, failing that, by touching it with a foot. He rarely strayed and Song didn't need to keep an eye on him, even when he got up to use their little washroom. As long as no furniture was moved he'd memorized their home quickly enough.

After they had done their basic exercises for the day Brute ran them through some weaponless combat drills. Septimus watched with interest. “So, you're really trying? You're learning to fight and you're trying to win?”

“Survive,” Five corrected the turian.

Septimus narrowed his eyes, “this doesn't look like surviving. This looks like fighting.”

Song's heart fluttered and she wasn't certain why as she worked through her polearm drills, sans polearm. Brute stood behind her, putting one hand on each of her arms to feel how she was moving. He used one of his feet to correct her stance. “Better,” he rumbled. “Remember, clean strikes, nothing sloppy or half way. Every motion must be tight and intentional. If you're caught out over extending, you're dead.”

“Right,” Song muttered, focusing on her breathing, striking with each sharp exhaled breath. She kept wanting to shoot little glances towards Septimus where he sat. Now that he was right there it was easier to admire him, but she had no idea how she felt about it. Watching him from afar was one thing, but him seeing her work out, meeting her team, this was new and unexpected. Did she dare hope that her crush was reciprocated? Perhaps there was no more sure-fire way to squash a potential romance than for him to see her dripping with sweat she wouldn't be able to shower off until after their next arena day.

“So, master turian, what do you think of our Yellow Team?” Brute asked, as he wended he was carefully around the others as they practiced. Even Five was honing his biotics by hovering a pillow in steadily widening circles above his head.

“They're... very different.” Septimus admitted. “I... I don't think the game makers understand quite how different.”

“What do you mean?” asked Rae, thrusting her arms forward as though she stabbed with a sword. “What was your old team like?”

“Rae!” Song scolded, shooting an uneasy glance at Septimus. Count on the little drell to always find the most painful spot and poke at it.

Septimus shook his head sadly, but raised it again to speak, “They were...we were a small group, just like this. I wasn't the only turian and there were more humans. We didn't have a drell, or a krogan. We never would have hoped to have a krogan.”

“We are a treat,” Brute smirked before he stepped behind Rae to check her movements. “Good, little sister. Good aggression. A bit more muscle control is needed. Keep practicing.”

“Also, our salarian couldn't do that. I didn't know any salarians could,” Septimus gestured with his head towards Five and his floating pillow.

“Well apparently everyone knows now,” Five griped, slashing his arm through the air and sending the pillow flopping against the wall.

Septimus cocked an eyebrow scale. “We tried to survive, just like you, but we weren't so...determined in between battles. We worked out a little strategy as best we could. Nothing like this.”

“How did you learn to use the bow?” asked Rae.

“I had something like it back home. For recreation,” Septimus explained. “Somehow the game makers found out. They thought it'd be fun to offer me a bow in the weapon selection. We saved for weeks to buy it for me. Squirreling away the measly points we could earn. With a projectile weapon like that we thought we stood a real chance.”

“What happened?” Rae stabbed again with her invisible blade, Brute still resting his hands on her arms.

Song gritted her teeth at the drell's bluntness, but she didn't speak up. She was as curious as the rest of them what had befallen the previous Yellow Team. Septimus sighed, looking down for a moment before he answered. “We did alright for a while. Not winning, but scraping by with a few points each time. I guess the viewers got bored because eventually... it was over.”

“Death match,” Brute spoke now, retreating to his bed, his voice so low Song felt it more than heard it. “I was there.”

“Yeah,” Septimus clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap.

“What happens in a death match?” Rae was the only one brave enough to speak. Cale, Song and Five had all stopped moving and stared sadly at the turian. Song felt a cold stone forming in her chest and her breath hitched. In her head she saw the images from the screen back home. The krogan pulling a Yellow Team member’s head off. Suddenly her legs would barely hold her and she sat down on the nearest bed without noticing.

“You don't want to think about it, little sister,” Brute said. His voice came down like an ultimatum, shutting down the topic without question. Even stubborn Rae fell silent. The who group stood or sat, their eyes staring at nothing. Song knew they must all be seeing what she was. Septimus had viewed the carnage first hand. Had Brute personally killed any of his old teammates? Septimus didn't shy from the old krogan, but perhaps he was acting the part. Could he have come on board to take revenge for his fallen clan? Song swallowed, her throat going dry, stinging like needles.

“Why don't we talk about something else. Anything else?” Cale was the first to speak, his forced-cheery voice still a welcome change from solemn morbidity. “We have skills to practice and stretches to do. We can even try some of that discussing strategy that Septimus talked about.”

“Oh! Yes!” Rae's eyes widened, she seemed fully snapped free of the haunting 'death match' in their minds. “We need plans! Something better than 'run and hide'.”

“What's wrong with 'run and hide?'” Song asked, trying her hardest to put on a mock-affronted attitude. Her voice shook and she realized she had a death grip on the blankets where she sat. Her fingers ached as she forced them open.

“Run and hide is fun, but I like our fight and escape plans better,” said Rae.

“Escape?” Septimus cocked his head.

“Here we go,” Five rolled his eyes.

Song listened without comment as Cale regaled poor Septimus with elaborate escape ideas which included hijacking a muu space craft and flying it all the way back to counsel space. Fortunately she was able to take the much needed time to calm herself and think of something other than having her head ripped off. She looked across at Brute who was also sitting quietly. His expression was as distant and thoughtful as hers must be. Perhaps he longed for a 'death match' so it would all be over at last. The fighter inside Song raised her head again, shouting fiercely in Song's mind that they could escape- WOULD escape, before this Yellow Team met the same fate as the last.

~~~~~

The rest of the week passed in relative peace. Septimus was still shy and spoke little, but he seemed to warm to them all a bit more. Song didn't dare try to steal a moment alone with the turian. She knew such an act would be obvious to her team and Rae at the very least would draw attention to it. She wasn't certain she was ready for that, let alone Septimus. Instead she settled for occasional meaningful glances when no one else was paying attention.

Septimus didn't speak more about his previous time in Yellow Team. Sometimes his eyes would go distant and Song guessed he was remembering them. She hoped he was able to scrape together some good memories to soften the horrific. Towards the end of the week he even began doing some of their exercises with them, though he was clumsy, often tripping over his own feet. Outside the battlefield he seemed a somewhat graceless creature. Song wondered if he had been sold cheaply by slavers who didn't know what they had.

Unlike Brute, Septimus' old team wasn't happy to see him, or inclined to be helpful. Instead they shoved or even struck him as he tried to get his food. He was often in a sorry state when we made it to the table. Yellow Team did their best to cheer and comfort him. Cale even put in a word with Ric, who was more than happy to stand near the turian line, baton drawn, a maniacal look in his hazel eyes. This helped considerably, though did not entirely solve the issue.

“They blame me for leaving and being disloyal even though they saw Empress give the order,” Septimus sighed, shoulders slouched. “They all think I should have stayed anyway. Refused to go over to this team and instead took whatever punishment Empress saw fit to give me until she allowed me back in.”

“Would that have worked?” Cale asked.

“Empress isn't an animal. She would not have been happy, and I would have felt the pinch as the new lowest ranking member of the team, but I would have been alright.”

“But you didn't stay,” Five pointed out.

“I suppose...” the turian hesitated. “I suppose I was just looking for an excuse. Yellow has always felt like my true clan, even when I was with my own species.”

“I hope we can be that for you again,” Song said before she could catch herself. She heard Rae make a swooning sound and kicked the drell under the table.

~~~~~

Another arena day loomed large before Yellow Team. “Remember,” Song hissed to her comrades as they stood in line for their gear, “we're not being punished any more, so we might have a chance earn a few points in there,” she gestured to the big doors at the far end of the hall. “Keep your heads on your shoulders and we'll be fine.” She grimaced as her choice of words pulled an unwanted image back into her thoughts.

Song turned to Brute as Cale went to investigate the weapons and armor list to see if they could afford anything nice with their piddly points. “How are you feeling about today?” Song asked under her breath to the krogan. “Be honest with me, Brute. I don't want to wait and find out in the arena.”

“I'm not bad today, Song,” he answered, though she could still hear a tinge of sadness behind his rumbling voice. Even his good days weren't anything he would celebrate. All she could do was hope that the good outweighed the bad enough for him to stay alive out there. She could stand by him all she liked, it wouldn't matter if they faced more than a small contingent. Their last encounter had almost proved too much for them.

Cale's laughter made both Song and Brute raise their heads. Their friend marched back over to them holding a datapad out before him. The slave he had taken the pad from trailed behind looking distressed. Nara and Ric seemed faintly amused and did nothing to retrieve the pad. “Look at this!” Cale held the device out to his team.

Brute waited patiently for Song to fill in what they all saw. With eyebrows raised and hands on hips Song reported, “the game makers must think this is hilarious. Green Team might still have Septimus' bow, but guess what just appeared on our weapon list.”

“Heh heh heh heh.” Several nearby guards looked up suspiciously as Brute's laugh rattled through the room unchecked.

Septimus leaned in to squint at the pad. “Look how many points it costs.”

“I know.” Cale nodded. “That's why I think the game makers are making a joke. We can't afford this, but they want to dangle it right under our noses. Is it as good as the one you had before, Septimus?” Cale aimed the pad at the turian.

“Looks like it,” Septimus gave a quick nod.

“Right,” Cale passed the pad back to the disgruntled slave. “Well, we can't afford a tissue to wipe our sorry asses today, so I guess we save up for it.”

“Looks like,” Song agreed. She was disappointed that they couldn't add to their arsenal any time soon, but the thought of getting a bow into Septimus' hands was worth it. If for no other reason than to stop the game makers laughing at them. Yellow Team could earn that bow and then they'd have another ranged weapons at their disposal. No one else had that, unless you counted asari biotics. She didn't dare let herself dream of Yellow one day having any kind of advantage, but it was hard not to when she had seen skillful Septimus in action.

“Who did they give his old bow to?” Rae asked, standing on tiptoe, unable to see over to where Green Team stood receiving their weapons and armor.

“Some random turian.” Five, the tallest of them, reported.

Septimus angled himself so he could see and immediately winced. “Spirits. He's clearly never even held a bow before. No, you idiot, don't dry fire it!” Septimus dragged his hand down his face and leaned forward as if he wanted to march over to Green and snatch his bow from the hands of the inexperienced wielder. Song was just glad to hear that the next person to carry the deadly weapon had little notion of how to use it.

“Don't worry, Pointy, we'll get you a new one,” Five patted Septimus' shoulder.

A slave came around with all of their weapons. Five gave his sword to Septimus. The turian frowned at it. “I forgot how flimsy Yellow Team's weapons were.”

“Thank the game makers,” Song said, taking her polearm and inspecting it. Whippy as it might be it still felt powerful in her hands. “We're true underdogs.”

“Right,” Septimus said glumly as he slipped the sword into his belt. It hung awkwardly due to the way turian hips jutted out from their narrower waist. He didn't seem to notice.

Song felt Brute's hand alight gently on her shoulder. She was growing used it, as well as getting better at leading him. At first she had not been as careful as she should and caused him to bump into things or trip. It was difficult to think of where another person might put their fete. Part of her mind needed to be in that 'blind space' where she noticed obstacles she had previously ignored with laser like precision.

Moment's later Five's hand was in hers. She caught Septimus looking at them confusedly and could only roll her eyes. Why was something as simple as a reassuring hand-hold to be taken so seriously? She hoped Rae wasn't spreading rumors. As they approached the open door and Song's face was washed with the canned sunlight she whispered over her shoulder to Brute, “close your eyes.” She was honestly surprised when he did as he was bidden. Every little thing she could do to keep from reminding him of his unfortunate situation, she would do.

As Yellow Team stepped out into the arena, last as always, flanked by a bored looking Ric and a bemused Nara, Cale's eyes went wide. He quivered with immediate energy and Song hurried to catch up and see what he was seeing. “What the fuck?” she whispered as she took in the scene.

“Oh HELL YES!” Cale crowed. “I can work with this!”

“Song?” Pressure on her shoulder reminded Song that she needed to describe the arena for Brute, but she wasn't entirely certain how. Spreading before her were a series of platforms that were made to look like natural stone formations jutting up from a ground so far below she couldn't even spot it. At least, not unless she leaned dangerously out over the edge, which she was not about to do. These platforms dotted the entire arena as far as she could see. She could just make out flashes of unnatural colors. Several of the other teams in their starting positions, far enough away not to be an immediate threat. All this she relayed to Brute as best she could, fumbling with distances and not certain she understood the point of this whole setup.

“I expect we're meant to jump from platform to platform?” Brute asked after Song had made her clumsy report.

“No,” said Cale, who was still gleeful. He practically bounced up and down.

Five clung to Song's hand, obviously as excited about the extreme drop all around them as he had been about trees the first time he'd seen them. Rae too kept well back from the edge, her arms folded nervously.

“Why is the male human so excitable today?” Brute asked, bemused.

Song led him forward to the flat bedded transport carrier which would ferry them to their starting platforms. Ric and Nara even seemed a little tense about the height. Song suspected that when the arena was fully set up like this, even the guards could fall to their death. “I think, if I am understanding this correctly, Cale is excited because the platform we're being taken to has a little vehicle parked on it.”

“What the fuck are the game makers playing at?” Five questioned under his breath so the guards didn't hear. “If this fight is going to involve piloting aircraft Cale is the man for the job, but do they know that? Are they giving us an advantage? Why?”

“It is possible they are,” Brute whispered back. “Perhaps there was some complaint from the viewers about our punishment last week. Perhaps we were too boring hiding in our cave. Or...” Brute considered for a moment, “It is possible that all this is because of the turian and his bow.”

Understanding dawned within Song. “The game makers might be giving us a match we could win so we can afford to give a bow back to one of the viewers' favorites.”

Brute nodded sagely. Five whistled, the sound drowned out by the buzzing engine of their transport.

Yellow team was dropped off on a wide platform that appeared to be made of sandstone. The next platform was still jumping distance away, but the one after it was much farther. The arena was littered with these tall pedestals, large and small. Some big enough to support the whole team and others that would only hold two people. Song guided Brute to his starting pad then stepped obediently to hers. The guards didn't even bother getting off their transport ferry. Ric did send a longing gaze their way, obviously wishing he could chat with them a bit before the gong was sounded. Did he have some secret to impart, or was he just missing them? Nara appeared to be done with the whole situation already and she took charge, steering their little vessel towards the exit as fast as it would go.

“Tell me about this vehicle, Cale,” Brute requested of the air, uncertain where Cale had taken up his starting spot.

The pilot had picked the pad nearest the little craft. Though it was clearly a shuttle of some kind it reminded Song of a very large pill canister. She doubted the whole team could have fit inside even before they had Brute with them, let alone Septimus. The turian was standing quietly, letting Yellow Team work things out. Perhaps he was observing, getting a feel for this new team dynamic. Joke was on him, Song thought with amusement, for assuming they had anything more than the barest of dynamics at any given time.

“It's a mining craft,” Cale said, “Meant to maneuver through mine tunnels or asteroid fields. Very maneuverable. I've never flown one, but Luke has. He said the miners used to race them. I bet you anything I can figure it out in two seconds.”

“Who gets to ride in there?” Rae asked nervously. Clearly the little drell was neither thrilled about the height, nor the prospect of cramming herself into what might turn out to be a flying coffin.

“Maybe we won't need it at all,” Song suggested. “We don't know what this game is going to be.”

As if the game makers had heard her, the disembodied voice piped up on the loudspeaker. “Welcome welcome, everyone, to today's game! We have something a little different for you this morning. We like to mix things up here at the Transmisphere! This might seem like a simple ring capture game, but in reality, it's a race! On one of these many platforms lurks the golden ring, and the first to find it and return it to their home base is our winner! You see, simple, right? Except our players today are going to have to get creative when it comes to reaching the ring. Brute strength isn't going to win the day this time! Skill is what we're looking to see here today! All wounds worth Fifteen points, kills worth five. Let the game begin!”

BONG

Song didn't even look up to see the light in the sky blinking on. Instead she scanned their surroundings one last time. As certain as Cale was that he could make short work of flying that little vessel, she still wanted to have a plan. Not all of them would fit, after all. “Alright, we'll need to divide into two parties, some to go get the ring and the rest to sit tight, possibly defend our home base if it comes to that.”

“Obviously I'm on team one,” Cale said, raising his hand.

“I don't want to go in that thing,” Rae hugged herself nervously.

“I think I would be better served to stay behind as well,” Brute said and Song tended to agree.

“Five?”

“I don't know. Wherever you think these would be of most use.” He coaxed one of the daggers free from him crossbelt with biotics.

BONG!

“With Cale?” Song wasn't certain. There was no way to tell where more of the combat would be taking place. The back of the craft was open so perhaps the salarian could stand in it and use his daggers to great effect.

“What about you and Captain Pointy over there,” Five asked, jabbing a thumb in the direction of Septimus. The turian gave Song a look at his new nickname, but said nothing.

“Five has a point. If we were to... run into some turbulence, a turian is not going to be a fun person to have rattling around with us in our little shuttle,” said Cale, who was poised to run straight for the tiny ship like a child who has their eyes set on a present.

Song nodded, making her decision. “I'll go in the ship then and Septimus, you stay here with Rae and Brute.”

“Right.” The turian nodded obediently. Song blinked a few times, unused to giving an order that wasn't met with sass. She shook her head, her muscles bracing of their own accord, ready to move, though there wasn't anywhere for her to go except off the egde. “Please, nobody fall off.”

“I won't,” Rae said in a very firm tone which implied she had no desire to so much as approach the edge.

“Brute, Septimus, do any of the people on your old teams know how to pilot?” Cale asked, flexing his hands, the shaking them out excitedly.

Brute just laughed so Cale turned his attention to Septimus. The turian shook his head. “This isn't something we've needed before. Unless some of the newcomers know.”

“Rae, watch anyone else who might be flying ships,” Song instructed, “and memorize it for later. You never know when that information could come in handy.”

“Sure.” The drell nodded. “Like all the times we'll definitely be piloting ships again.”

BONG!

Song ignored Rae's final comment as the match began. Distantly she could already see flashes of blue energy which she guessed to be the asari team. Clearly they intended to skip the shuttle and do their own flying using biotics. Song suspected, as she gave the terrain one last glance, that the jumps would eventually be impossible, even for the gifted women.

“Song, let's go!” Cale shouted. He was already inside the mining craft and Song heard it power on with a rattle.

“One second,” she turned and without thinking she grabbed Septimus' mandible as Brute had once taught her, bringing thw truian's face easily down to hers. He looked alarmed, but said nothing, blinking at her. “Keep an eye on my team back here. Especially Brute. No stupid risks, alright? You get in trouble you call for us. Don't stop shouting until we book it back to you. Got it?”

It took Song a second to realize that he couldn't speak without use of the mandible she still grasped. She let go, blushing. Septimus shook his head and eyed her as though she might not be quite sane, but he nodded, “I'll watch over them. Clan before blood.”

“Right. Clan before blood,” Song agreed. She could only hope that their 'clan' outweighed the one the turian had left behind in Green Team. She darted to join Five and Cale in the shuttle.

“Does this thing have safety harnesses?” Song asked urgently as Cale, grinning like a maniac, jammed the throttle forward.

“Nope!” The pilot announced gleefully as, for a moment, they all floated a few inches off the floor. The shuttle went into free fall. It might only have been for a fraction of a second, but Song was certain they were about to hit the ground and splatter like protein paste against the wall. If her stomach hadn't been in her mouth she might have screamed.

The little ship leveled out, Song's feet thunked onto the floor and she balanced awkwardly, almost smacking Five with her polearm as the ship rocked back, pointing its nose slightly upward. Song grabbed for one of the metal ribs that ran at intervals all the way to the open tail end of the little vessel. She had been in a fair number of ships in space, but far fewer that were intended for travel inside an atmosphere and none that were being driven by insane speed demons.

“Song, come up here! I need to focus on flying, so you look out for the gold ring from the front. Five, you keep an eye out the back!” Cale instructed over the rasping engine. Song was struck with the sudden realization that this little ship was not holographic. Instead it was probably stolen by slavers as they raided far flung mining communities. The muu likely purchased these vehicles cheaply and did no repairs.

Song did as Cale said, scrambling her unbalanced way to the front and crouching to peer through the grimy front windows. They zipped over the top of the many sandstone platforms. Cale compensated with immense skill each time they crossed stone or gap, Song barely feeling the dip as different thrusters were required to fire. She raised both eyebrows, glancing at Cale's fast moving hands as they flew over the controls. The man might have been prone to bragging or exaggeration, but apparently now about this. Song did wish he would slow down just a little bit.

“I see Green Team!” Five shouted. “They're mostly on their home platform, but some have boarded their ship and are trying to fly.”

“How's that going?” Cale called back over his shoulder.

“I don't think they have figured out how to start it yet,” Five reported, grinning as he braced his long limbs in the opening. “Wait, I have an idea! Bring us around them a couple times, Cale!”

“Why?”

“I want to try something.”

Cale shrugged, then brought the little ship around in a lazy circle. Now Song could see Green as well, scrambling confusedly as they tried to surmount this unexpected challenge. Moments later something came sailing through the air towards them. It took Song a few moments of squinting to realize it was an arrow. Seconds later the arrow darted sideways in a decidedly unnatural flight pattern. She turned and almost laughed aloud to see Five plucking the projectile from the air. “Keep circling a few more times! I'm collecting!” Five called.

It took the turians three more clumsily fired arrows before they realized they were feeding their enemies potential ammunition and stopped. Five passed the arrows back to Song who tucked them carefully into her belt. Five wore their very first arrow in his own belt, in case his daggers should fail him.

“Shit!” Cale grunted and Song turned back to the front window. One of the other teams had gotten their vessel into the air and were flying it with some semblance of skill. Cale whipped their own little craft around to give chase. “I think it's the humans! Odds are good that if Black Team figured out how to get into the air, Grey will be here as well.”

“Keep your eyes open for that ring!” Song called to Five as she redoubled her own searching efforts. She leaned over the control panel and pressed her forehead against the window. Moments later a glint of gold caught her eye, resting atop a tiny platform that would likely only hold one person. “There!” she pointed it out to Cale. He swung their little craft in the indicated direction. Unfortunately the humans had noticed it as well. Seconds later, as predicted, the salarians joined the party, flying almost as well as Cale who cursed under his breath, hands flying furiously over the controls.

“What can I do?” Song asked.

“Hold down that toggle!” Cale ordered. Song smashed her hand into place with such force her fingers stung, but the toggle was held. Their ship give a sickly rattle and she bit down on the inside of her cheeking. 'Don't you dare fail, come on....' she coaxed the little vessel in her head.

“FIVE!” Cale roared as he slammed his palm onto another switch and the ship lurched sickeningly. “I'm going to get us close. You use your abilities to grab that ring!”

“What?! It's bigger than I'm used to!” The salarian gasped, though he braced himself, spider-like, in the opening, silhouetted by the blurred scenery outside.

“You lifted that pillow!”

“Pillows are light!”

“Five!” Song snapped. “We don't have time to land. Grab the fucking ring!”

Her words seemed to be enough. The salarian turned and braced as Cale brought their ship in to dive-bomb the ring pedestal. From what Song could see the humans intended to try to land, or have someone lean out to grab it. Not likely to succeed, but the salarians... what were Grey Team up to? They nearly kept pace with Cale, though they had no biotics of their own. She suspected they had some kind of device that they would use to snatch up the ring. “Come on, Cale,” Song growled between gritted teeth.

“Hold on to something!” Cale shouted. Song had just enough time to brace her body against the metal ribs of the shuttle before Cale jammed the stick hard to the left and the entire craft rolled over in midair, diving like a corkscrew towards the ring.

Song had not idea how Cale was able to pilot now as they spun. Her mind understood that her spacial orientation was off, and it didn't seem to care. She felt detached from her body. Each time she slammed into the walls, floor and ceiling, she felt the pain, but it was numbed by her disconnection. Her body not occupying the same space as her mind. She watched the scenery twirl with an almost pleasant interest. Something akin to fun? Was this what dying felt like? She'd have to ask Five later.

Song was slammed to her knees on the floor as Cale leveled them off once more. “Five?!” He shouted, unable to turn his head to see.

As Song righted herself and became aware of her many small cuts and bruises, she looked up, realizing that, while she was simply trying to hold on, her salarian friend had been expected to pluck a heavy object off a platform with his iffy biotic ability. Through a dizzy haze she saw that by some miracle, he had it. By some unfathomable twist of fate or skill, Five had pulled it off. He clung doggedly to the opening, the metal ring looped around a skinny arm like a decorative trinket.

Song turned back to the front window in time to see both Black and Grey teams struggling to maneuver after them. “Cale!” she pointed.

“I see them. Copilot, Song, I don't have enough hands! Blue button, now!”

Song scanned for the blue button on the busy control panel, the paint so faded it nearly blended in. She smashed her thumb down on the button in question and felt new thrusters kick on, lifting them slightly. She did her best to obey Cale's every command. Between the two of them piloting they were outdistancing the other fliers, heading back towards their base at break neck speed.

“I won't be able to brake in time so we're going to have to pass the ring to the others and hope I can land us before we hit the edge of the arena!” Cale reported.

“Fuck.” Was Five's succinct reply. Song tended to agree.

“Five, if you pull this off... I don't know what, but I'll think of some reward!” Song called.

“I'll take all your pillows for the next week!” The salarian said, though Song heard the tense humor in his voice.

Through the front window she could see the rest of their team, waiting patiently on their rock. They were all there, and appeared to be in one piece. Septimus saw them coming in hot, flanked by the human and salarian teams. He got to the edge of the platform, clearly guessing the reason for their speed and flight path. He stood so near the edge Song wondered if he was using the talons on his feet to keep himself in place as he reached up.

“Here we go!” Cale said between gritted teeth. “Song, grab that secondary control stick and press it forward as hard as you can.”

Song leaned into the stick as she follow instruction. The little craft gave one more mighty surge, its back end bucking upward. Five launched the ring into the air and Song couldn't see well enough to know whether this was because it was the right time, or because he had lost his balance. He managed to keep his grip, falling back and smashing his shoulder against the wall.

“Oh shhhhhii-” Cale didn't get to finish his exclamation as another stone platform loomed before them, taller than expected. Their ship's nose clipped it, metal screeching as it skidded over the sandstone and plummeted off the other side. Song was thrown against the control panel and her elbow struck a switch. A thruster thrummed to life and the ship whipped around, spinning horizontally this time, smashing Song against the wall, and Cale against her. Distantly she was aware that if thy kept this up they'd hit either one of the platforms, or the distant ground, whichever came first. She doubted either impact would be survivable. So much for their first victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... good news: Cale was not fibbing about his ability to pilot things. Bad news: our three lead heroes are in trouble. Again. How are they going to get out of this one?


	18. Warrior Heart

Chapter 18  
Warrior Heart

“Why... why aren't we dead?”

Song opened her eyes. She was braced against the wall, ready to be splattered like discarded protein paste all over the inside of the flying death trap they called a shuttle. She'd expected the guards would have to scoop them out with shovels. Instead the ship's wild spin had been abruptly stalled, Cale's weight against her wasn't crushing her ribs, and every hair on her body was standing up as though charged with static electricity. For a wild moment she thought Five had somehow generated a giant biotic field to save them all. As Cale gingerly removed himself from on top of her, she looked to their salarian companion. He was sitting on the floor, still bracing himself against the walls with his long limbs, and looking just as baffled as she was.

“You have very sharp knees,” Cale griped, massaging his lower back as he stood carefully, peering confusedly at the shuttle controls. Had he managed to hit some stabilizing thruster to halt their death spin?

“Yes, well, your elbows are nothing to celebrate either,” Song rubbed her breast bone.

“Is anyone going to answer my question? Why aren't we dead?” Five asked, more insistently. He shifted uncomfortably to look out the back door while remaining wedged where he was. They were hovering forward and slightly upward at in a slow ascent. The ship let out a sad rattle, but did not seem to be moving under its own power. 

It gave a little lurch and Song grabbed the control panel for support. “Are you-?” She asked the pilot. Cale raised both hands to indicate he had no control. A pulse of strong biotic energy coursed through them all and Song and shuddered. It was like someone running a stun stick along her spine. “Have the asari caught us?” she asked. “Did we get the ring to our team?” This was a lot of biotic power, even for the asari team.

“I threw the ring.” Five seemed to decide it was safe and scrambled awkwardly to his feet, blinking uneasily at his friends, “I didn't see who caught it. Septimus looked ready, but we were moving so fast. I tried to guide it with biotics, but once it's out of sight I can't...” he trailed off worriedly.

“Alright. Worst case scenario-” Cale folded his arms. “The asari intercept us somehow. They snatched our ring and for some reason are hauling us back too. Maybe to win some easy points by beating us up? They can't be very fond of us right now.”

“No one is fond of us ever,” Five pointed out.

“So we get ready to fight?” Song asked. Her polearm had been knocked from her grip and it was a wonder none of them had wound up stabbed during their plummet. Luckily it had become wedged halt way under the control console. She pulled it free gently, so as not to damage it. The biotic energy all around them sizzled and crackled along the blade.

Cale leaned to peer through the small front windows of the shuttle, one of which was cracked. “You guys aren't going to believe this.”

“What?” Song turned in time to feel the gentle thud of their ship coming to rest. Before she could move to Cale's side her cuffs snapped together and she went down, her polearm clattering uselessly to the floor beside her. It was a good thing Brute didn't know how many times she dropped the damn thing, she thought ruefully, twisting to look towards the open back end of their shuttle. Five was flopped on the floor, his cuffs having magnetized just as Song's and Cale's had.

“Is the match over?” Song asked. She didn't remember hearing a winning 'gong'.

“Well, shit! You're all still in here and alive!” Ric's voice echoed around the little shuttle as the guard appeared at the back. He deactivated all their legs cuffs and hauled Five to his feet before rushing in to aid Song and Cale. Song had never seen the small man look so thrilled, or show so much emotion at all. The closest he came was the odd glee on his face when he beat back brawling slaves with his baton. She could practically feel the excited energy rolling off of him as he hoisted her to her feet, then moved to Cale's side.

“You did it! I never thought you would. The game makers had to set you up so well and you did it! I had no idea you could fly like that. You're amazing!” Ric crowed ecstatically. He grabbed Cale's face and planted a sloppy kiss right on the man's lips. Song grimaced as Cale's eyes went wide with alarm. Ric pulled away, still beaming. “You did it!” He said again, shaking his head as though he still didn't quite believe it.

“We... did we win?” Five asked, his voice filled with the bafflement that Song felt.

“You did, you big, beautiful idiots!” Ric whooped. He turned back to Cale, still grasping Cale's hands and beaming proudly. Cale looked deeply uncomfortable, but she could see him struggling to slip his cheerful mask back into place. He didn't push Ric away, but did nothing to encourage the guard either, simply stood, allowing himself to be fawned over.

Nara stuck her head into the shuttle and Ric stepped away from Cale at last, blushing faintly. If Nara caught on she said nothing. Song wondered how often guard-prisoner infatuations occurred and how they were dealt with, if at all. She might have pondered this more deeply, and what it would mean for Cale, but her mind was buzzing with the wild and impossible notion. They'd won? They'd won an actual match? How many points was that? Could they afford the bow? Her legs almost folded under her when she tried to take a step, she was so stunned.

Outside the shuttle, on their sandstone platform, the rest of Yellow Team was waiting, their wrists cuffed together. Rae was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That. Was. Amazing!” She raised her bound hands into the air.

“Everyone still alive?” Brute asked of Septimus, who was standing beside him.

“We are,” Song answered in a loud, clear voice.

Brute's chuckle rattled through the air, and where it might have been unnerving to the uninitiated, Song found it to be strangely joyful now.

“What happened?” Cale asked, emerging into the canned sunlight and squinting at the waiting team. “Last thing I knew we were all about to bite the big one in a crashing shuttle.”

“Septimus caught the ring thingy,” Rae reported enthusiastically as Yellow Team was led onto the transport barge to be taken to the exit. “We won the match but you three were still flying. We thought you were going to die too...unless you meant to do that crazy spin thing.”

“No. We more definitely did not mean to do that,” Cale said, butting Song playfully with his shoulder. “Someone bumped a thruster.”

“Only after you, ace pilot, clipped one of the platforms.” Song countered. Now that they were no longer flipping through the air towards their doom it was remarkably easy to joke.

“Anyway,” Rae gestured for them to hush and Nara chuckled at the eager drell. “You three were about to die in a plume of fire, and we figured we'd have to watch you, but then these muu appeared out of these little doors in the sky and stopped you. They stopped all the shuttles. I've never seen biotics like that before!”

“The muu?” Song tilted her head. “Why would they save us?”

“The match was over. No one watches The Game to see people die after the match is over,” Nara explained with a shrug. “I'm sure the game makers are already regretting the use of actual shuttles though. I don't think they were planning to have to intervene.”

“I doubt we'll be seeing the shuttles used again,” Ric agreed. Their transport barge grumbled to a stop at arena exit. Yellow was last out, as usual.

As Song was shunted out into the hall to give up the weapon she hadn't even needed, a thought struck her. Leaning down she whispered to Rae, “you saw where the muu appeared in the sky?”

“Yeah, of course.” The drell nodded, passing her sword to a waiting slave.

“Could you find those 'doors' again if you needed to?”

“Sure,” Rae shrugged.

Song straightened and handed in her polearm, her mind already alight with insane plots and schemes to rival Cale's. She'd keep them to herself for the moment, but it gave her something to chew on as Yellow was moved along. Rather than being ignored as they usually were, the other teams glared as Yellow was guided through. There were very few casualties, but everyone looked at Song's team as though they had personally murdered all the favorite players. Even the guards, many of whom had no doubt lost bets. The muu had not shared their knowledge of Cale's piloting skill before they constructed a game around it.

“I don't think we're supposed to win,” Five muttered, flinching away from the glares.

“We are not,” agreed Brute, his hand resting on Song's shoulder as she guided him. “Nor are we supposed to get special favors from the game makers.”

“I wonder what the audience will think. Maybe they like to see their underdogs win from time to time,” Cale walked at Song's other side. His cheery mask was well in place and he even managed a few big smiles for Ric. The guard beamed back and Song suspected he would have been holding Cale's hand if there were not so many other guards watching. Thank goodness for judgmental guards, she mused.

“I'm certain it was a very exciting match to watch for the viewers,” Brute mused. “A pity I could not witness your exploits, though Rae was kind enough to give me the 'blow by blow' account.” He reached out and Rae hurried over so his hand would land on her head. Song had trouble keeping her own disinterested expression in place as a smile threatened.

~~~~~

Song remained quiet during her shower. She decided to give Dawn a break from talking of guards and escapes. The slave was as excited as she dared to be about Yellow Team's victory. She recounted her favorite moments. Song was interested to hear that even Dawn was allowed to watch the matches. Perhaps it was to keep the helper slaves excited about The Game, as well as grateful that they were not participating in it.

“What was it like to be inside the shuttle?” Dawn asked, eyes bright and eager.

“Mostly terrifying.” Song shrugged, her face still emotionless, though inside she was amused by the girl's enthusiasm. “You know my teammate Cale is... well, he's a little insane. You've seen how he behaves.”

“Yes, but he's a very good pilot.” Dawn's pale face widened with a smile. Her teeth were a little crooked, Song noted absently as the girl went on. “He's good looking though... Cale I mean.” Dawn blushed furiously and it was all Song could do to keep her stoney mask in place.

“He's uhm... he's married. To a man.”

“Oh.” Dawn's shoulders sagged. Song didn't like to ruin the girl's hopes. Especially if admiring Cale as they came to collect him for his shower was a highlight of her day. What other meaningless tasks might Dawn be asked to perform around the transmisphere when she wasn't helping Song shower? Might she fill her time with imagining a handsome arena fighter or two? Still, poor Cale didn't need another person chasing him. The man did accumulate crushes faster than anyone Song had known. She decided to keep this one to herself. No use him getting an even bigger ego.

Song finished her shower, answering further questions Dawn sent her was as succinctly as possible. What was it like during the spin? Had Song or the others been hurt? How did exactly did they manage to grab the ring and pass it off to the rest of the team? Was it all part of the plan?

This last question made Song snort in amusement as she tugged on her pants. “Dawn, I'll tell you a secret. We never have a plan.”

~~~~~

It was strange to return to the barracks after a match and see everyone there. No infirmary visits required. Song had a faint bruise between her breasts where Cale's elbow had smashed into her, but she little noticed.

The mood in the room was an odd mix of celebratory and somber. Cale, usually a source of much of their energy, was quiet and withdrawn. Song understood why and her heart stabbed in sympathy. She wished she knew what to say that might make things better, but she drew a frustrating blank.

Rae recounted over and over again the most exciting moments of the day as they went through their stretches. Finally even Brute spoke up, encouraged her to be quiet and focus. Song shot a glance towards Septimus. He was once again silent while the others chatted, though she caught him watching her more than once. Tonight, she resolved without stopping to think. Tonight she would wake him and and they would finally talk. What about, she didn't know. Food? The lumpiness of their beds? It didn't matter. She was tired of silent staring and barely a word shared between them.

She forced herself not to linger on the dread that was building inside her at the thought of her upcoming chat with Septimus. Instead she visited Cale, sitting down beside him on his bed. He leaned comfortably into her as they sat in silence for a long moment, overhearing the conversations of the others echoing around them. “Are you okay?” Song asked quietly.

“No. But I guess that's alright. Sometimes... sometimes the world just isn't okay and we have to keep going to deal with it anyhow.”

Song sighed and rested her chin on the top of Cale's head. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“It didn't mean anything. I didn't choose to kiss Ric, it just happened. That's what I'll keep telling himself so that I don't go crazy.”

“Please don't go crazy. I have enough to deal with already,” Song joked.

“I'll do my best, but I thought I was already the insane one. The first insane one. I set the bar.”

Song considered this for a moment, “I suppose you have a point there. Well then, carry on. Give the others something to aspire to.”

Cale fell silent for another moment. “Will we ever get out of here, Song? I'm starting to think the only way we leave is in a body-bag. The only way Luke will ever see me again is if he happens to intercept a muu broadcast frequency.”

“Maybe,” Song answered earnestly. “That's how I always imagined we'd leave. You know better than anyone that I have long assumed this would be my last assignment. My last job.” Did she dare admit to Cale that these days her hopes were flaring to life more and more often? Could she speak the words that her inner warrior shouted to her daily? The part of her that remained a stalwart, obedient slave was so thinned and frayed she could almost see through it. “Don't tell anyone,” she whispered, “I have a reputation to uphold... but these days I've been starting to plot. Plot our escape I mean.”

Cale sat up, turning to look Song in the face. His eyes, pale and defiant, flashed when they met hers as though all this time they had just been waiting to find a kindred spirit. Song winced. Was she about to regret telling him?

She looked down hurriedly. “Don't get too excited. It's just flights of fancy. Nothing that makes logical sense... but... I never used to think about escaping before.”

“It took putting you into an arena with a bunch of people who want to kill you to make you crave freedom?” Cale cocked an eyebrow, his sarcastic, smiling expression returned in earnest.

“Actually, I think it's all the time I spend with an annoying pilot who won't shut up about wild escape ideas.” She prodded him in the ribs with her finger. “I figure if we do get out of here he'll finally shut up.”

“I just might,” Cale nodded firmly.

“Right, well, if that's what it takes then so be it.” Song planted her fists on her hips and sat up exaggeratedly straight. They both laughed and the rest of the team stared at them for a moment before rolling their eyes and continuing their own conversations.

With Cale squared away Song retreated to her own bed and her own thoughts. She watched Septimus pointedly until the turian noticed her and gave him what she dearly hoped was a significant look jam packed with meaning. She assumed that in reality she probably just looked uncomfortable, which was how she felt. She wanted to get this out of her system and have answers for good and all. That way, even if he wasn't interested in her, she could move on. It made logical sense, but why did she feel like she was about to walk naked into a lightning storm back home? She shuddered and hugged herself, yanking her attention from Septimus and not looking his way again for the rest of the evening.

Once the lights went out, as abruptly and soundlessly as ever, the group sat up a bit longer and chatted about this or that. What the game makers might be up to giving them such an advantage. Would it come back to bite them in future matches? Everyone agreed that it probably would. To lighten the mood Rae insisted on a shadow puppet competition using the faint light from the tables. This ended in a heated debate between her and Cale over whether a 'rabbit' was a real animal.

Finally everyone tucked themselves in for the night. Song found it nearly impossible to stay awake. The day had been a little too exciting and the sounds of her friends sleep-breathing was deeply comforting. Every part of her cried out for rest. Twice she had to jerk herself awake. Finally, when she felt certain the others were truly out, she sat up, rubbing puffy eyes and blinking moleishly in the dimness. Pulling herself from her bed was torture, but she had demanded this awkward meeting and she was going to keep it. She shuffled to the foot of Septimus' bed, the floor icy underfoot, and hoped she wasn't going to startle him awake like some creep looming over him.

She jumped when she caught the flash of his green eyes, even though she thought she'd been ready for them. He rose without a word and followed her to the far end of the barracks where they sat on the unused beds and looked at one another.

'Alright... here we go. You have him all to yourself. Talk.' Song commanded of her mouth. Instead she stared uncertainly at Septimus chest, unable to look him in the eye. He cleared his throat and adjusted his position uncertainly.

Finally Song heaved her most defeated sigh. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I dragged you over here. I thought... well, I don't know what I thought. I guess I figured we'd have a lot to talk about.”

“Other than what we talk about with the rest of the team?” Septimus raised an eyebrow scale.

Song's heart rate picked up. Did Spetimus think she was pulling him aside for special orders or punishment? That she was going to ask him to sabotage the others or something? “No, no! Well, yes and no,” she spluttered and knew she was doing a very poor job of keeping her mask in place. Talking to Bright Eyes back home had never been this difficult. Thinking of the beautiful turian with her keen, intelligent manner that was offset by a gentleness most did not get to see, gave Song an ounce of confidence. Septimus was no Bright Eyes. Where she had been outgoing, he was shy. Where Bright Eyes was loud and the life of the party, Septimus seemed observant and thoughtful. “I uh... I wanted to get to know you a little better I guess.” She shrugged. Perhaps he would believe she did this with every new teammate?

“Er... alright. What did you want to know? I don't have any abilities besides the bow and I'm... well I'm clumsy at everything else. I can try to train with Brute if you want but-”

“This isn't about your fighting ability,” Song raised a hand to stall his nervous speech. 'Just dive in, Song. Go for it!' “I... we... it seemed like maybe you... in the dining hall.” Fuck. “I'm not usually so bad at this.”

“At what?” Septimus tilted his head.

“It's just been a while since I needed to. Bright Eyes and I were together for so long I-”

“Bright Eyes?”

“My girlfriend.” Song bit down on the words too late. Now she'd done it. She'd steered the conversation wildly out of control and was probably riding her second death spiral of the day. She wished she could vanish into the blankets and was deeply considering covering herself up with them and hoping Septimus would go away.

“So you like... you like females?” Was Song imagining it or did he look disappointed? “I see. You wanted to let me down gently.”

“Let you down? What? You mean you-?” Song fumbled, her mouth suddenly forgetting how to form even the simplest words. If she had been sitting in on this conversation she would have punched herself for her utter ineptitude. “No, wait. I like men and women and...I guess I mostly like turians.” She shrugged lamely. Perhaps if she just slipped under the bed and slithered away. For some reason she kept speaking, even as she willed herself to fall silent. All discipline seemed to have abandoned her. “I know it's rare for turians to be attracted to humans, but Bright Eyes was so I thought... maybe you could be too. Which is probably stupid and I'm scaring you right now because I'm just another insane, rambling human who-”

Septimus raised a hand. “Song. I think... Well, I must like you because I'm glad to hear that you like males too, and that you're interested in... in me.” He said the last part with such trepidation. Unsure of himself, and of her, and probably the entire situation. She suspected he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her to announce this was all a misunderstanding and they should just go back to bed.

Song's warrior spirit raised her head, injecting the slave with a jolt of courage. Song leaned across the space between the two beds to put her hand on top of Septimus'. “I do like you. In a different way than I like Cale, or anyone else on Yellow Team. I just never thought we'd get a moment like this so I... I didn't have anything prepared.”

Septimus' mandibles spread in blessed amusement as he turned his hand over and grasped hers. “Really? I couldn't tell.”

Song swatted playfully at him, her entire body relaxing at last. She hadn't realized she was sitting as rigid as a statue. She must have looked like an unappealing freak. She was lucky he kept talking to her at all. “So you're interested in... trying a relationship?”

“Sure.” Septimus nodded determinedly. “We can try it. I've never been with a human before, but-” He stopped, mandibles snapping tight to his jaw in embarrassment, as though his lack of romantic experience with humans was some point of shame.

“Like I said,” Song hurried to interject, “it's rare for turians to be attracted to humans. Even Bright Eyes said she hadn't been before she met me.”

“Maybe it's because you remind me of a turian sometimes,” Septimus titled his head to one side. “You value your team highly, even if they're small and not terribly skilled. You'll stand by them and do right by them.”

Song stuck out a foot to nudge his. “That might be a human thing too. I don't know. The only humans I've known besides Cale have been slaves or guards. “Maybe I'm ordinary.”

Septimus let out a chuckle.“I don't think you're ordinay. Sometimes you're not like a turian at all. We value rules and, you... you break them sometimes and I like that.” He dipped his head, mandibles still tight in a deep turian blush.

His expression changed once again to a thoughtful one. Song longed to prod him for what was on his mind, but she let him ponder before he spoke. “You said that other turian, Bright Eyes. She was your girlfriend? Are you still... are you and she....I mean, do you miss her?”

“I do miss her.” Song admitted. Flashes of the vibrant, lively Bright Eyes darted through Song's mind. Of them sitting out on a summer night, enjoying a lull in a storm. Of holding hands when no one was watching, or nuzzling together in a secluded corner. A faint smiled flitted across her lips. “We knew we were going to be separated a few months before I was sold. We didn't know were or when, but we knew the masters were planning some changes now that Asla, their daughter, was grown and no longer needed me as a care giver. Bright Eyes and I talked about it and we knew if I was sold we'd never see one another again. We were a couple, but it was never serious. Never a 'for life' situation.” She met Septimus' keen gaze, so intense it felt like he was staring through her. Did he understand that no matter how close he got to her, their relationship would never be like Cale and Luke's? How could it be? Yet the warrior inside her struggled free and flared to life once more, assuring Song that anything was possible.

“So you're alright starting a new relationship?” Septimus clarified.

“Yes.” Song nodded firmly. “And I've picked you, if you'll have me.” her cheeks burned and she hurriedly moved on. “What about you? Any old girlfriends I should know about?” She cocked a playful eyebrow, enjoying the feeling her of her hand still resting in his. His skin was dry and slightly rough. She hoped her own palm wasn't sweating too much. She didn't dare draw attention to it by wiping it on her pants.

“I never had anything serious.” Septimus shook his head. “No other female turians in Yellow or Green, aside from Empress who wouldn't give someone like me the time of day.” He gestured to his too-long spurs. “By turian standards I'm a bit.... awkward looking. That's putting it nicely.”

Song's eyes followed the line of a spur to his slender leg, then took in his extra long fringe. She could see what he meant of course. Everything about him reminded her of a young creature whose paws were still to big for it. Yet she liked that about him. He stood out from a crowd.

“I had a girlfriend at home when I was young. That was never going to last,” Septimus rolled his eyes dismissively. “Just a first-time crush.”

“So you've been at the transmishpere the rest of your life as a slave?” Song asked, sympathy tinging her voice.

“I was in a processing center for a while. Like a big warehouse for slaves.” Septimus' eyes grew distant, haunted. “I was new, I really didn't understand what was happening to me.” He tried a smile, though it was painfully forced. “Not a lot of time for romance.”

Song squeezed his hand. “No, I suppose not. And then your joined Yellow Team and... that happened.” Why was she bringing this up now? Like he needed more bad memories? She didn't remember being so inept when she first started to fancy Bright Eyes, but maybe her recollection was faulty. Perhaps Bright Eyes had been the smooth, confident one and Song had always been a fumbling idiot. Well, there was always the option of crawling under the bed to consider.

Septimus must have read the mortification on her face, which she had not even attempted to hide, because amusement flashed in his eyes. “It's easy to focus on the tragedy in our lives. Tragedy is simple. None of us should be here. Not me or you, not Cale or Brute, Five or Rae. We all belong out there.” He gestured upwards and Song knew he was picturing a purple field of twinkling stars and waiting freedom. He could remember a time when he was free. Remember the people who had birthed and raised him. Was that a blessing or a curse? If they got free today, he would have someone to return to. Song? She imagined herself rattling around in the little shuttle from the arena, all alone, floating in the void. She shook her head vigorously to dislodge that thought. This romantic conversation was going quite poorly.

Septimus seemed to decide the same thing, because he reached for her with his free hand and gingerly cupped her jaw, guiding her face towards his. She could feel his gentle breath, warm against her cheek as he nuzzled his face against hers. The turian equivalent to a kiss. Song silently thanked Bright Eyes for teaching her what to do. She reciprocated by touching his jaw with careful fingertips and closing her eyes, enjoying the smooth feeling of their cheeks brushing together. They moved as one, sliding from their beds to kneel on the floor, chest to chest with hands still clasped.

Septimus nuzzled down to her neck, gingerly nipping. He was being gentle, Song knew, as turian skin was tougher than that of a human. In return she kissed his mandible, enjoying the feeling of a strong body pressed against hers. She remembered the sensitive places between harder scales where she used to tickle and caress Bright Eyes. Would he enjoy that was well? Here was something she hadn't known she'd missed all this time, but now it felt like a drink of water after days lost in a dessert.

Just as Song drifted a hand towards his chest to see how he might like to be touched, a clattering sound broke the pair apart like a knife coming down between them. Both jerked to look towards the door at the far end of the room, where the sound had originated. Down where the others were sleeping. In the dim light from the tables Song could already see her team stirring. Hurriedly she and Septimus scrambled to their feet, tripping over one another in a way that might have been humorous if Song's fight or flight response wasn't already surging.

“What?” Rae spoke first, rubbing bleary eyes.

“Shhh,” Brute warned her, sitting up and raising a hand. “Song?” he whispered.

“Here.” Song startled her krogan friend by not being in her bed. He jerked his head in her direction, milky eyes searching. She hurried to his side and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. If anyone noticed that she and Septimus were returning together from the far end of the barracks, no one bothered to comment. Everyone was stone still, listening.

They jumped and Rae let out a squeak as their door snapped open and a figure darted inside before the door shut again. Song gaped, unable to form the words to tell Brute what they were all seeing. A salarian had just let himself in. He too seemed utterly shocked by the situation. His dark eyes were wide as saucers and his mouth was slightly agape. He stood, dragging in labored breathes as though he 'd run a very long distance. “The hell?” He finally managed between gasps. “There weren't supposed to be people in here.”

“We... we were recently moved,” Cale said, his voice monotone and automatic with surprise.

“Shit.” The salarian sagged back against the door frame. “Shit shit shit!”

“Who- what the hell is going on?” Song managed, so utterly nonplussed she couldn't even slip her emotionless mask into place.

There were more sounds from outside the room and the salarian flinched away from the door, crouching like a cornered animal. “Wait...” recognition finally dawned in his eyes. “You're Yellow Team.”

“I'm afraid so.” Brute levered himself to a standing position, squaring his shoulders. He was a hulking mass in the dark and Song understood that he was trying to look intimidating. He succeeded, and even Song was inclined to move away from him, but she held firm at his side, flanked by Septimus.

“The hell are you doing in here?” The salarian asked, not speaking to any of them in particular, but casting his eyes desperately around the room. They locked on the far door which led to the shower hall. Without another word the salarian darted towards it. Song reacted. She wasn't certain where this instinct came from, perhaps she was simply reading Brute's body language. She planted herself directly in the salarian's way and when he attempted to get around her she used one of the grappling techniques the blind krogan had taught her. She caught his leg from under him, grasping a fialing arm she twisted, pushing her body down towards his. They both hit the floor, the salarian on his belly, arm hitched up behind him, Song's knee against his spine. The motion was so abrupt and painful that even Five winced.

It took the strange a moment to catch the breath Song had knocked from him. He thrashed in her grip, but though he was much taller than her, Song knew she was stronger. He gasped as he stuggled, “What the fuck? Let me go! Let me up you human shit!”

“I don't think so,” Song pressed her knee harder into his back. A warning. She wasn't certain where the salarian kidney was located, but felt certain she could rupture something important if she leaned in with her full weight. “Not before you tell us what the hell you're doing in our barracks in the middle of the night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... we all knew Song could be a little social inept. Even I had no idea how inept until she attempted to 'flirt'. A pity Septimus is also an awkward alien because this was making my cringe for them as I was writing it! Damn, guys. Just.... wow. But hey, they're going to give being a couple a try.
> 
> In other news: there's a random salarian in their room! Song uses tackle! It's super effective!


	19. Trick and Tribulations

Chapter 19  
Trick and Tribulations

“You had better answer her,” Rae warned the freshly pinned salarian intruder. “She's dangerous.”

Song grimaced wishing Rae wouldn't build her up as the leader if this salarian didn't know, but instead she held the struggling stranger all the more firmly. “Talk or I'll have the krogan snap your limbs off.”

The stranger coughed painfully under her. “Then... then you'd have a dead body to explain to your guards in the morning.”

“What if I just break a few fingers?” Brute growled. His voice was so deep it reverberated in Song's chest. Even she felt his deadly presence, as though a huge, jungle predator loomed over them both.  
It was a struggle not to flinch away from him.

“How about this,” Cale was out of bed, coming to stand over the salarian as well. “You can talk to us, or I make noise until the guards show up. I can make a whole lot of noise, and from what I've been hearing there are guards in the hall, possibly very near this door, probably looking for you.”

The salarian snarled, giving one last jerk, letting out a little gasp of pain as Song's knee only dug in harder. In the dim light from the table Song could make out their captive's markings. He was green skinned with yellow and one of his horns was shorter than the other. She eased her weight from him slightly so he could speak, “I know you.”

“I think not,” The salarian spat.

“No, I saw you in the arena. You were working on something. We thought it was a bomb, but it seemed like an odd place to plant one and we never saw it go off.”

The salarian kicked wildly. Locking his foot against one of the tables he heaved mightily, managing to jerk free of Song's grip for a moment. As Song grappled for purchase Brute reached down, grasping the first thing he felt which happened to be the salarian's arm. He lifted the lanky creature to his feet. The salarian's face was twisted with pain and he was obviously fighting hard not to scream, writhing in the powerful grasp of the deadly krogan. A low rumble like an animal growl emanated from Brute's lips and even Song stepped away. Brite casped his other hand around the salarian's throat. “You will answer my team's questions now. I can kill you with a flick of my wrist and the guards won't do anything. I've been here for so many of your pathetic lifetimes you should be worshiping me as a god. One less salarian won't matter to the game makers... but will it matter to your team?”

“Brute?” Song's voice was smaller, breathier than she expected. She realized she was trembling. In this moment Brute was one of those monsters who murdered humans in the arena. In that moment there was nothing of was well spoken, gentle creature she guided through the halls. It was simultaneously terrifying, and awe inspiring.

Brute lowered the salarian to the ground where the lanky alien's legs folded under him like useless twigs. As the krogan released him and the stranger collapsed to the side, gasping for air and cradling his arm. Song moved in again, crouching in front of him with what she hoped was a stern expression, but steadying expression. “Why don't we start over? I'm Song. You probably know Brute, he's been in the arena a while. These nice people are Cale, Five, Rae and Septimus. What's your name?”

“Trick.” The salarian muttered, almost too low for Song to hear. He massaged his throat and looked appropriately cowed at last. Not an ounce of haughtiness remained. “I... I can't tell you anything.”

“Oh, I think you can, Trick,” Song said, surprising herself with her own harsh tone. “Let's start with how you got out of your own room and into ours. We know the guards have special wrist bands that allow them access. How did you do it?”

Trick hesitated. “If I tell you anything my team will kill me.”

“We're not going to say anything to your team, are we?” Song leaned back, indicating her teammates.

“Of course not. Why would we talk to them?” Rae folded her arms. The little drell was crossed legged in her bed, unease sparking in her large, dark eyes. “They hate us like everyone else.”

“We just want to know.” Song adjusted her position to kneel more comfortably in front of Trick. “That's all. Then we'll let you leave. You can scurry off and finish whatever you were doing out. We won't make a sound.”

“How can I trust you?”

Song glanced at her team again. They watched her with intent, expectant expressions. There she was, acting as leader again without meaning to. Only Rae seemed distracted. She was eying Brute with narrowed, distrustful eyes and pursed lips. Song didn't have time to deal with that, so she turned a scrupulous glare on their prisoner once more. “You'll have to figure that out on your own. You can trust our krogan to fold you in half if you don't start talking soon.”

Trick heaved a sigh, tucking up his long legs to sit as naturally as a salarian could on the floor. Song watched those legs, knowing a kick from them would send her sprawling. Brute was still looming over them both, however, and the salarian seemed resigned to his fate. He held out his uninjured arm to Song, wrist up. She looked at it confusedly for a moment, then lifted her own wrist to compare her magnetic cuff to his. A miniscule light shone on her cuff, dim, but present, to show that it was working. Trick's light was dead. With a grimace he held out his other wrist. At first Song didn't see it, but after a moment of close examination she noted differences. This cuff had not only bee shut off, it had been modified.

“Rae,” Song exhaled. “Five. Come here.”

Five was at her side in seconds, while Rae dragged her feet, suddenly uneasy about getting so close to Brute. She eyed the giant and squatted on Song's other side. “What is it?” Five asked.

Song kept her eyes on Trick. “Show us how to turn off the cuffs. Five, pay attention to see if you can understand it. Rae, memorize everything he does.”

Trick didn't move for a few seconds, locking eyes with Song as though a hint of defiance still rioted within him. She could understand that, she supposed. With a sigh he rested his injured arm on his knee to work on the modified cuff. His hands were quick and skillful, but Rae watched keenly. If she missed anything she asked him to repeat the motion so she could see it. With a few deft tweaks the salarian had opened a small panel on the cuff, exposing a few wires and some tech Song couldn't identify. She could only hope it would make sense to her friends. Trick pressed hair-fine wire to a connection and the little light on his cuffs flashed back to life. “There. It's on. If the guards activated our cuffs now mine would react the same as yours and pin my limbs together. Now if I do this-” His long fingers worked again and the light switched back off. “I'm free.”

'Free'. The word sent a little surge through Song that she felt all the way to her fingertips. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face stern and emotionless. “Alright, what about getting in and out of the rooms? How do you do that?”

“That can't be done with a cuff alone.” Trick said, spinning the cuff so a different section was revealed. This spot was scarred and even burned in a few places. It had taken obvious effort to open and reveal the workings beneath. A small chip of metal, etched over with strange filaments and tiny rivets, was clearly a new addition. “You have to modify the parts. You couldn't do it, Yellow Team. You don't have the tech.” The salarian smirked faintly and Song wanted to punch the smugness from his face, but restrained herself.

“So how do you do it? With the tools they give you in the arena?” Five guessed, squinting over Song's shoulder.

“If you breath a word of this to the game makers we'll find a way to kill you. All of you. I don't care how big you are,” Trick hissed, glaring up at Brute, “we're blown up plenty of krogan before.”

“I said we wouldn't tell anyone and we won't,” Song snapped her fingers in Trick's face. “Focus. I know we don't have the tools, but show Five and Rae anyhow. How do you modify the cuffs to open doors?”

Trick grimaced in annoyance, but he did as he was bidden, picking apart the strange, intricate device. Five's face was a mask of concentration and Song sat back a bit so her friends could see and memorize. She shot a glance at Septimus. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, bright and intelligent. There was an excitement there too, as if he found all of this just a little bit thrilling. If she was honest with herself, she did too. Nothing this interesting ever happened in the barracks.

Trick finished his demonstration and glared up at Song. “There. Can I go?”

“Did it make sense?” Song asked Five.

“I- I think so.” The salarian smiled thinly and shrugged. “Without the right tools and pieces we won't be able to duplicate it, but I think I understand how they did it. It's a simple reroute of functionality. The guard cuffs and ours are remarkably similar. Probably made in the same place.”

“Right, so can I leave?” Trick pressed, moving to get to his feet.

“Not just yet.” Song planted a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back to the floor. “What were you doing in the arena on the day we were being punished?”

Trick closed his mouth in a tight line, dark eyes becoming steely. “I can't tell you. You'll have to have your krogan kill me.”

“Grey Team is going to try to escape. Aren't you?” Cale's voice was brimming with admiration. “That's why you're out wandering the halls and that's what you're doing in the arena.” Trick merely glowered, so Cale continued his enthusiastic hypothesizing. “I'll bet my left boot you've found way to disrupt the arena hologram somehow. To make it so you can see through to the tech under it! Am I far off? What's your timetable? When are you making a break? How do you plan to get off the station?”

Trick refused to speak further, tucking himself up into a the closest he could come to a ball. Clearly he was bracing for Brute's hand to return for his throat. Song rocked back on her heels, eying the stranger distrustfully. If the salarians were plotting another escape attempt, did they know what reportedly happened to the last group to try? Was their current method any better than the ones before. With such short lives and vulnerable bodies, Song guessed that the turnaround for players on Grey Team must be the highest, which also meant that new thinkers and better ideas were always coming in. Could they actually pull it off? More importantly, could Yellow Team ride their wake? She could tell just by the look Trick was giving her that Grey Team was not going to be in a hurry to ally with anyone, let alone Yellow. They were the idiot children of The Game. The turians were likely endlessly mocked for their one-time teamup.

Before Song could think of more questions there was another clatter from outside, accompanied by faint voices.

“Guards,” Rae hissed, moving away from Trick as though he were on fire and scrambling onto her own bed.

“If they catch me, they won't just kill me,” Trick said, turning a pleading gaze on Song. He grasped at her arm with desperate fingers. “They'll torture me to death.”

Song knew he was right. The guards would be more than happy to pump the unfortunate salarian with enough voltage to break him internally. Her mind buzzed to life. “Everyone, back to your beds. Five... I need you.”

“Song? No. No, I know what you're thinking and I can't!”

“Only if the guards come in. Please, Five,” She turned and took both her friend's slim hands. He looked down at her as though she were asking him to give up a limb. His hands trembled in hers. “Five, we need this. If the guards torture the information out of Trick everyone loses.”

“What happened to us keeping our heads down and trying to survive?” Five asked bitterly, though he didn't take his hands from hers. “Who are you, Song? Because I thought you and I were the sane ones, and now you're asking me to-”

“Five,” Song's head snapped to the side as the sound of the guards drew nearer. She could almost make out what they were saying. They must have been right in front of their door. “Please! Survival isn't enough. I know it, and so do you. Please...”

Five tugged his hands from her grasp at last, his face a mask of bitter displeasure. “Put him on my bed.”

“Thank you,” Song whispered, touching her friend's bicep. He drew away and Song's insides clenched. How long would it take him to forgive her for this? She turned and grasped Trick by the arm Brute had held. The salarian hissed in pain, but Song didn't let go. “Over here. Lay down and be still.”

“This is the plan? Hide me under your friend's blankets and hope no one notices a spare salarian in his bed?” Trick sputtered, disbelieving.

Rae bounced to her knees on her bed, eyes going wide. “Is Five going to-?”

“Yes,” Five snapped. He flexed his long fingers, sitting down beside Trick on the bed and reaching over to grasping the other salarian's wrist. “Don't move or this won't work.”

Song had just enough time to throw herself back into her own cot before the door to their room snapped open. She closed her eyes for a split second, centering herself as best she could and letting her calm mask slide into place with unexpected ease. She opened her eyes and squinted towards the door.

Two guards she didn't recognize stepped into the room. Both human, both about Cale's size and build. She could hear them tapping stun batons against their palms. With her heart trying to escape the cage of her ribs, but her expression as dead and emotionless as ever, Song sat up slowly, blinking and rubbing her eyes. Pretending to notice the guards for the first time she drew back from them with a gasp. She dared to cast her eyes over her team again and a wave of relief coursed through her as everyone else put on the same show. Best of all, Five's bedfellow was completely invisible.

One of the guards spat on the floor, “Dorn, this is Yellow Team. Trust me, they don't know shit.”

No one spoke as the two guards made a lazy circuit of the room, checking under each bed and tossing back the blankets on the empty ones. “W-what's this about?” Cale finally asked.

“Shut up, slave.” One of the guards pointed their stun stick in his direction and Cale snapped his mouth shut. Normally he might have tried to be more disruptive, but they wanted the intruders gone as quickly as possible.

“Come on,” the other guard said, “He's not in here. I told you he wouldn't be. Fuckers probably hiding out in the dining hall. Let's go.”

Without so much as a glance at the room's occupants, both guards strolled out the door, leaving Yellow Team in silence and darkness once again. Seconds later Five let out a loud breath and Trick reappeared, laying curled up and looking utterly baffled. Song sprang from her bed faster than she expected, charging Trick she planted herself in front of him, eyes deadly. “If you breath a word about what you just saw to anyone, we'll make sure your death is as slow as it would have been with the guards.”

Trick swallowed hard. “What... what was that?”

“Me,” said Five in a fierce if breathless voice.

“You alright?” Song reached over and squeezed her friend's wrist.

“Fine,” He mumbled, not meeting her gaze. At least he didn't pull away from her hand.

“Can I... can I leave?” Asked Trick. His voice was audibly shaking.

Song looked around at her team. “Anything else you want to ask our new friend?”

“Not that I think he'll answer,” said Cale with a shrug. He knelt beside Five, checking his friend over with gentle concern.

“Right.” Song sighed, folding her arms. “Once you're out of here we both pretend this never happened. As far as your team knows you found someplace to hide and got back to them without ever encountering another team.”

“Yes,” said Trick, getting to his feet so quickly he nearly collided with Septimus, who had come to stand beside Song. A defensive shadow at her shoulder as Brute had decided to stay in his bed. Trick gave Song one more searching glance, as if to determine whether he was going to be tackled again. When it was evident Song wasn't moving, he darted for the door at the far end of the room. It opened with a snap and he launched himself into the shower hallway without another word. The door shut behind him and the only evidence that he had ever seen was Five's labored breathing.

No one moved. They stared at one another, wide eyedr. It was Brute's odd, jarring laugh that finally broke the silence. “Heh heh heh. Well, I can safely say that's the first time that's happened.”

“Fuck.” Cale ran a hand back through his stubbly hair. “So that really did just happen? I'm not having some elaborate dream?”

“If this is a dream it is oddly specific.” Five hugged himself.

“What... what do we do now?” Rae asked, her voice small and uneasy. She kept looking to the doors as though she expected more surprise guests.

Song opened her mouth to say 'we go back to sleep', but Cale beat her to the punch. “We plan! We know a bunch of new things now! Like how to turn off our cuffs.”

“What good is that if we're stuck in here?” Septimus spoke and every looked around as though they had forgotten he was there. He dipped his head, mandibles tight in embarrassment. Song reached for him and managed to snag his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We also know that leaving through the shower hallway door gets you somewhere-” Cale got to his feet, beginning to pace, the same manic energy Song had felt when she had first met him was rolling from him now. He kept talking, fast and urgent. “Otherwise Trick wouldn't have used it. Maybe there are fewer guards, or maybe he's been leading the guards around exactly where he wants them. Damn!” He snapped his fingers in aggravation, “I should have asked about guard rotations!”

“Why? You planning to go for a stroll?” Five asked, brow raised.

“Maybe,” Cale gesticulated wildly. “Maybe we all could, if we can modify our cuffs the way Trick did.”

“Be calm, little human,” said Brute, his voice so steady that it stalled Cale's flurried movements. “We don't have the tools right now. Perhaps we can come by them later, but unlike the salarians we are not awarded such things in the arena. Now. Will someone please explain to me exactly what happened? We must have hid our guest very well. Does Five have some skills I was unaware of?”

“He does,” Song dipped her head, releasing Septimus' hand so should could join Brute on his bed. Her hand went icy the moment she freed it from the turian's, and for a moment the only thing she wanted to do in the world was put it back, but she pressed on, absently shaking out her fingers as she sat down beside the krogan. She explained Five's invisibility and Brute rocked back, obviously impressed.

Five winced, his long face a mask of bitter displeasure. He glowered at Song and she felt his look like a knife in her chest. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him. Maybe there would have been another way. They could have offered Trick up to the guards, claiming he had just gotten there. But then his technique with the cuffs would be revealed She couldn't bring herself to meet Five's stare for long, dropping her eyes to the floor as though she was being admonished by one of her old masters.

“We have a great deal to process, and we may spend the night doing so, but I for one am going to sleep,” Brute announced. Song couldn't blame him. Between Cale's surging excitement and Five's burning resentment the energy in the room was dangerously off kilter. Retreating to sleep seemed like a good idea. She moved from his bed so the krogan could lay down. As she stepped away he grasped her wrist, but gently. She bent down so he could speak in her ear.

“How did things go with the turian?”

She startled. How had he guessed her plans to talk to Septimus? Perhaps he had merely put it together when she and Septimus had been on the wrong side of the room earlier. She smiled thinly, “well, I think. We've decided to give it a try. Being a couple I mean.”

“Good for you,” Brute said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Something like that... sometimes it's all we have.”

Song wanted to ask if he had ever paired off with someone. There were only male krogan on Red Team, so his options were somewhat limited, but perhaps there had been someone he'd left behind when he was forced onto Yellow. Was it possible he had been in the arena so long he had managed to carry on something with a member of another team? More likely, she though glumly as she sat down on her own bed, watching the aged krogan close his sightless eyes, was that whomever Brute had loved was dead. Possibly for a long time. He had probably watched them die. Her throat tightened as she looked across Brute to Septimus. Odds were good that sooner rather than later one of them would witness the other's death. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as though this would somehow block the dark thoughts. The warrior inside her flared to life again, 'we'll escape before then' this new, hopeful part of her asserted. 'We'll be free.'

~~~~~

“So last night... that really happened?” Rae asked as the team made their way towards breakfast the next morning.

“I'm afraid so,” muttered Song. Part of her wished it had been a dream. This new information seemed to make the world so much more complicated. Five was still upset with her, walking on the other side of Cale and not meeting her eyes any more. At least she had Septimus on her other side, quiet and steady. His presence was calm, even if he felt as uneasy as the rest of them. What now? Would they too shut off their cuffs? What if they did? What good could it possibly serve if they couldn't move around the station freely? And in the arena they all wore their team armbands. She had long suspected those bore a tracking device inside them, so the cameras could easily find each team.

“Oof!” Song hadn't been paying attention and the human team passed by, jostling and shoving Yellow Team out of their way. Song frowned. Normally, while she was leading Brute, no one bothered her, but today...

“I don't like the way any of them are looking at us,” Rae hugged herself, keeping to the middle of their little cluster.

Brute grunted knowingly. “I can only afford you so much esteem, Little Sister. Yesterday in the arena we did something that has wiped the awe of me out of everyone's minds.”

Song swallowed. She could feel the burning gazes of the other teams scorching the back of her neck. Suddenly she was walking in the jungle alone, the eyes of all the predators following her every move. Sweat prickled on her skin as they entered the lunch room.

Brute had only been half right about his power in their group. The moment Red Team swooped in and took him away to his food line, Yellow was in trouble. In seconds they were encircled. For a moment there was a stillness, filled with deadly anticipation. Perhaps everyone was waiting to see what the guards would do. Song looked around desperately. No sign of Ric, or even Nara. In fact most of the guards seemed to be suspiciously busy in other parts of the dining hall.

WHAM! The first blow was struck. One of the humans threw his lunch tray and it smacked flat into Cale's shoulder with an impressive sound. Clearly this was a signal because Yellow Team was set upon the moment the tray hit the floor.

Song and Cale moved back to back instinctively, arms up to defend their heads as best they could. She was aware that at least the human, asari, and even several of the turians and salarians were there to join in the mauling. Blows rained in, the only saving grace being that Yellow were so small their enemies were getting in each others way trying to strike them. Song lost track of Rae almost immediately, but Five and Septimus managed to stay with them. “Rae?” Song twisted, trying to find the little drell in the throng of flailing limbs. “Where's Rae?”

“I don't see her!” Septimus answered before grunting in pain as he too took his fair share of blows.

Song's mind fought for something, anything they could do before they were crushed to the ground and trampled, possibly to death if the guards never bothered to get off their asses. “We need to get to a wall! We can't stay surrounded like this!” Song shouted, blocking a punch that was meant for her nose with a forearm. “Septimus, you're closest to the wall, try to head the formation!”

The turian did as he was bidden without a word. Snarling, mandibles spread to show of rows of needle-like teeth, he put his head down and surged into the ranks of the humans, mingled with several members of his own people. He raked anyone in range with his claw-like nails and Song even saw him bite someone. She might have been impressed were she not so focused on keeping up with him and staying on her feet as her shins and knees received multiple kicks.

Making for the wall was like walking through a hurricane, but with fists and kicks flying at her instead of branches and debris. By some miracle they made it and Song put her back heel against against the wall squaring up with Cale beside her. Thus far the asari had not dared to use biotics, but Song could tell by the crackle in the air that several were considering it now. The guards still did nothing. Five levitated a tray to whip into the faces of his attackers, not even bothering to worry about getting in trouble for it. It didn't matter now.

On Song's right someone grabbed Septimus and ripped him from his feet. “Shit!” Song gasped. She tired to turn to help the turian as kicks were rained down on him, but in doing so she opened her side. Two blows to the ribs soon had her gasping and she swung with a wild hay-making punch that was so slow and poorly aimed it only grazed her attacker's cheek, close as he was. Someone else grabbed for her shoulders and she completely lost track of the others, her vision tunneling until all she could see was her own fight for breath, her battle to stay on her feet. If she fell it would all be over.

“RAAAAAAAAAH!” A horrible, blood curdling roar vibrated the entire dining hall. In moments the attacking teams were bowled aside. Red charged in, heads down, ramming the others aside like leaves tossed by a wind. Behind them strode Brute, his hand on Rae's shoulder. The little drell looked bruised, but infinitely smug as she watched the krogan smash everyone else to the ground.

Song coughed as she fought to get her breath, her bruised ribcage protesting. Her mouth tasted metallic and she spat blood onto the floor before finally remembering to look around at her friends. Cale and Five were still on their feet, but Septimus was sprawled on the floor. She dropped to her knees, ignoring the pain that lanced up her side. She hoped her ribs were bruised, not broken.

The turian was a mess of dark cobalt blood. Tuning out the sounds of Red Team beating their way through the hall, Song gingerly touched Septimus' arm. He flinched, then lashed out, catching her on the chin with the heel of his hand. She reeled back, stunned.

“Oh! Oh shit! Song, I'm so sorry!” The turian struggled to sit, wincing at his own injuries. He reached for her with a tentative hand. “I thought you were-”

“I know.” She waved him off, hand to her chin. She was overcome with the bizarre urge to smile, even laugh, in that moment. Perhaps it was the mere fact that they were still alive. Seconds before she had begun to suspected this version of Yellow Team would not meet its end in some death match, but right there on the floor of the dining hall. What a pathetic scene that would be. All of them in a pile with trays and food splattered over them like the discarded trash they were.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!”

The air crackled with so much biotic energy that Song flinched as she raised her head to look around. Two muu had entered he room, their arms raised, fierce blue energy exploding from their hands. It was coldly beautiful as it spread through the room, picking up each combatant and holding them apart in the air. Suddenly there were guards everywhere, batons out. They moved through the floating throng, picking out one fighter at a time to receive a merciless dose of electricity before being hovered by the muu to sit at their assigned tables. The tables were bolted to the floor, so at least they had kept their position. More guards appeared to cart off the injured. Song wondered if anyone had been killed. A few of the limp figures that were carried towards the door certainly didn't look alive.

Soon all of the teams were returned, most without food, to their spots, where they dared not move. Guards stood all around in greater numbers than Song had seen in the dining hall before. Arena guards, and even Mordo and Ebb joined in. There was still no sign of Ric and Song was surprised to realize she was worried about him. What might someone had done to ensure that he would not attempt to come to Yellow's aid?

One of the muu, energy still crackling around her hands, click-clicked over to look over Yellow Team. Most of them had lowered themselves to the floor to watch the bizarre scene play out and lick their wounds. Song gave her team a once over. No one looked happy, but everyone was conscious and that was something.

The muu raised her chin imperiously, looking over Yellow as though they were the very pile of refuse Song had feared they would become. The game maker's thin lip curled. “Are you the cause of all this?”

“Us?” Cale sputtered, wiping blood from his swelling jaw with the back of his hand. “Lady, we were the victims here.”

“There are no victims amongst you slaves,” the muu drawled, rolling dark eyes. “You all claim it was the other team that started it, yet in the end, we always find the blame lies with both sides.”

“The hell were we supposed to do? Lose in the arena when you all set it up for us to win?” Cale snarled, straightening and squaring his impressive shoulders. He might have been nothing to a krogan, but for a human he was not someone Song would have chosen to tangle with.

The muu sighed. “At least you understood that you won in the arena because we wished it. Now, you will receive your punishment and return to your table because I wish it.”

“Punishment?” Cale spat, brows rising. “Isn't being pummeled nearly to death enough for you people?”

“No food.” The muu said blandly, waving a hand to get the attention of two nearby guards.

“Fuck you!” Cale got to his feet, hands balled into fists. Song knew he wouldn't be stupid enough to attack the game maker, but she was starting to feel like she might be. Her jaw was so tight it hurt more than her ribs and she ground her teeth so hard she suspected Septimus could hear it. Every fiber of her being screamed to tackle that muu bastard and pummel her smug face into the deck. Instead Song forced her mask back into place, though she knew it had so many cracks it was hardly worth trying.

At Cale's words, one of the guards stepped in with his baton and tapped Cale's shoulder, giving him a brief, warning zap. Song noted that the man wore a sympathetic expression. Could it be that even the guards were beginning to feel sorry for Yellow Team. Not so much that they'd come to Yellow aid in a fight, it seemed.

“And you,” the muu had turned her attention to Brute and Rae. “Seems to me you are responsible for the krogan involvement.”

Rae flinched and hid partially behind Brute, making her appear all the more like a child. The blind krogan stood tall and calm, gazing in the vague direction of the muu. He said nothing as the game maker looked him up and down with obvious distaste. “You seem to be trouble wherever we place you. You are not supposed to be connecting with your previous teammates. You're a member of Yellow now. You'd do well to remember.” She gestured again and a guard stepped in, baton sparking.

Rae shied back as the guard jammed the baton into Brute's side. The krogan barely moved or showed any sign that he felt the electricity at all. Song's gut clenched, her fists going so tight she was in danger gouging her palms to bleeding with her nails. Brute was tough. He could take it... he would take it. Would he goad the game maker into giving him a lethal dose? The notion seared through Song's muscles, pushing her to her feet.

“Stop!” Shouted Rae, casting around herself for a weapon. She snatched at a disregarded tray and rushed the guard. Another moved quickly to intercept and seconds later Rae cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground in the fetal position.

Song didn't have time to think about how much electricity a careless guard might have sent surging through the small drell's body. The first guard was still holding his baton to Brute's side, not letting up. Brute stood firm, the only sign he was being hurt at all was the slight curling of his lip.

“Song,” Someone hissed, grasping her wrist. She hadn't realized she too had gotten to her feet. Septimus held her, firm, but gentle. She glanced down into his small, green eyes, shining with fear. “Don't.”

She looked back to Brute, the game maker, the guards. Everyone in the hall was silent, watching. As if they too wondered how much punishment an adult krogan could take before... “STOP!” Song roared. Her voice reverberated around the room. She jerked her hand free of Septimus grip and strode forward. “He's been punished.” Her voice startled even her. It was low and even. Filled with an authority she hadn't known she could call upon. She moved with the calm confidence of a game maker as she stepped between the guards as though above them. She knelt, scooping Rae into her arms. The drell squeaked in surprise, but didn't struggle. Song gritted her teeth as her ribs burned.“We're going back to our table now.”

The muu blinked at Song as though realizing she was there for the first time. “Interesting.” The game maker mused. “Seems we were wrong about Yellow Team's leadership.”

Song did not allow herself a moment to panic over this revelation, but instead turned to the guard who was still zapping Brute. “Stop.”

To her utter amazement, the man did. He blinked confusedly at Song, backing away from Brute as though he'd been woken from a trance. Song nudged Brute with her elbow to show him where she was, gratified when his hand rested lightly in its usual spot. Then she began to walk. Right past the game maker, between the guards, under the baffled gazes of the other teams. Her legs felt like two brittle twigs, ready to give at any moment and her ribs screamed with pain as she supported Rae's weight, but she pushed on. A surge of relief passed through her as the rest of Yellow got to their feet and began to follow, limping and supporting one another. Not a sound was uttered as everyone watched Yellow's strangely victorious hobble to their table.

Once Song had set Rae on her bench and eased Brute in to follow she gave her legs permission to fold. Cale caught her under the arms as she went down. “Whoa! Easy! Here we go. I've got you.” Her friend eased her to a spot on the bench, pulling himself in to follow. Septimus took a spot on her right, with Five joining Brute and Rae on their side of the table. Though spots swam in Song's vision, she raised her head to look around at her fellows. They all stared at one another in bafflement, surprised that they were alive. Shock that Song had walked them all away from the game maker as though she were one.

Song's head swam and she fought to stay awake for a panicked moment before Cale wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she felt Septimus slip his hand into hers under the table. Cale laughed, a dry, choked sound, but somehow still filled with mirth. “I have to say; if we did have to reveal you as our true leader, that was a hell of a way to do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure how to end this chapter so I stepped up a planned beat-up for our heroes. Because everyone knows I'm a jackass and like to hurt my dear characters.
> 
> Many revelations have been made, but what to do with them?
> 
> Good news: A kind friend let me borrow their Xbox so I can play Andromeda! Of course, this is very distracting from writing you new chapters. I still hope to have the next one out on time, but this one was pretty darn close ;) Just finished my edits before posting it now. That said, I apologize for the typos I missed. I only edit these chapters once before I post 'em.


	20. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a break from playing Andromeda and check out this new chapter!

Chapter 20  
Family

“Are you... are you alright, Brute?” Song found her voice, a husky, crackling thing that made her ribs ache.

The krogan smiled thinly. “I'll survive.”

“I think we'll all survive, but are we so sure that's a good thing?” griped Five. Song was glad that he clearly felt well enough to complain.

“Thanks-” Song managed, looking from Brute to Rae. “For the krogan.”

Brute grunted, shifting with obvious discomfort. Song hoped the internal damage wasn't anything his redundant organs and nervous system couldn't handle. “They weren't happy about it. I had to remind their new leader, Nax, that I was the one who trained his sorry ass to fight. They're not our friends, but they'll still do as I say.”

“Is everyone alright? Nothing broken? Septimus? I saw you get dragged down.” Cale scanned the group with a worried eye.

Most of them were busily trying to sop up bleeding noses or lips. Septimus dabbed at his own nose with a napkin, wiping the last of the blue from his upper lip. Song could see a bruise beginning on the dark skin below his eye, but the boney plates that covered much of his face seemed to have protected him well. Perhaps his extra long crest had worked to his advantage here too. “I'm fine,” he said, spitting experimentally into the napkin to check for more blood.

“Nothing broken,” Five reported as Cale's concerned gazed passed to him. The salarian looked more pissed than injured. Song's heart gave a wispy flutter of relief.

“Song?” Cale's arm was still around her shoulders.

“I'm alright,” said answered firmly. Honestly she had no idea if her ribs were broken or not, but she suspected they were merely bruised. Just sitting sent sharp lances of pain up her side with each breath, but her taciturn mask was firmly in place. She hated to use it with her team, but she needed to be strong for them. Showing weakness in this moment would be a disaster, she decided, setting her jaw all the more firmly.

“Don't worry about me, human,” Brute waved Cale off with a dismissive hand. Outwardly the krogan looked as healthy as ever.

“Rae?” Cale asked gently.

The drell had her knees tucked up to her chin and the darkest expression Song had ever seen her wear. It pinched her youthful face into a hateful facade. What was she thinking of? Was she giving up, or becoming more enraged than before? Her lip pulled back as though she was tasting something fowl. “Go away.”

“Rae, we don't know how much electricity they hit you with,” Cale tried again, his tone gentle. “Are you woozy? Where does it hurt most? Can you stand or walk?”

“Shut UP Cale!” Rae snapped, curling herself more tightly and burying her face down into her knees.

Brute reached out, missed, tried again and planted his hand on the back of Rae's head. “It's alright, Little Sister. You have a good rage and then later we'll make them pay.” He tilted his head towards Cale, staring at a point just over the man's shoulder. “She'll be alright. I've got her.”

On cue Rae tucked herself up against Brute side, head down. The krogan jerked slightly, as though startled, then settled in with what might have been a faint smile.

“What about you?” Song nudged Cale with her shoulder, instantly regretting it as the motion sent little spikes of pain up her side.

“You know me,” Cale cast his best, beaming grin over the group. “I'm always fine. Fit as a fiddle.”

“What's a fiddle?” Five cocked his head.

“Something that's fit.” Cale snarked, and a quick flash of amusement passed over Five's long face.

Song lowered her voice, speaking into her human friend's ear. “Be honest.”

“I'm fine,” he reasserted in a whisper. “Bruises and scrapes. I punched a few people... some of those people were turians. My knuckles are a little shredded, but otherwise I'm good.”

Song reached down and pulled one of Cale's hands up onto the table. He was right. His knuckles were swelling and laced with deep cuts. “I wish we had ice.”

“Yeah,” Cale put his knuckle to his lips for a moment. “I think we'd have to be on death's door for them to take us to the infirmary today. We've been very naughty.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” Rae popped her head out from behind her knees and glared at them all, one at a time.

Brute laughed. “Heh heh heh. Save your fury, Little Sister. Use it in the arena.”

“I want to use it on a game maker right now,” Rae said between gritted teeth, tucking her head back down.

“Me too,” Song admitted before she could catch herself. She felt Septimus' gaze on her and risked a sideways glance. He was wearing a similar look to the one he'd worn when she'd attacked the guard to protect him, what seemed a lifetime ago. Was it admiration? She wasn't used to being admired, so she wasn't certain she knew what it looked like.

“You already bested a game maker today,” Septimus pointed out quietly so only she would hear. “It was... really very attractive.” There was a low growl to his voice she wasn't used to, but she found she liked. It was almost a purr. He nudged her jaw with his nose, a small nuzzle, a gentle kiss. He liked the fierce side of her. Maybe Bright Eyes would have too, if she had gotten to see much of it. Song wondered what her old girlfriend would think of her now. New scars, new attitude. Chances were good that she and Bright Eyes wouldn't even work well together any more. Certainly not in a place like this, but maybe this was the perfect place for her and Septimus. She hung her head, her neck twinging. Why on earth was she thinking about this now when her team looked like someone had thrown them into a clothing wash and let them bash around inside for an hour?

The energy in the dining hall was taught. Like it might snap at any moment and everyone would come crashing together in a battle royale of their own making. The hateful energy wasn't even solely directed at Yellow any more. Song could feel stray spikes of it lancing across the room from one team to another. The salarians especially did not look pleased, no doubt sensing that if things went south they didn't have the tech here to keep themselves alive. They huddled together even more tightly than the human team.

Luckily the room was still overfilled with guards, none of whom looked inclined to be conversational. The krogan team had taken a while to settle down, even with muu biotics at work, and several guards sported blood and bruises.

Once the muu had decided that everyone had sat without food for a sufficient time, they allowed each team to return to their barracks in turns. Yellow was, as usual, last. Mordo and Ebb came to collect them and Song was glad that they didn't have to make their way through throngs to furious aliens this time. She was not looking forward to dinner.

Both their guards seemed slightly dazed by the whole situation as Song and her team struggled to their feet and limped to follow. Rae was moving fine under her own power, so Song let her lead Brute this time. It left Song free to lean against Septimus as the pair supported one another down the hall to their room.

“That uh... that was pretty shitty,” Mordo said as the door flicked open and Yellow filed into their barracks. Song looked around at the turian, disbelieving. Was he coming down on their side too? His expression was cold as ever, but there was a hint of something in his eyes. “We uh... we won't be letting that happen again.” He said.

Ebb said nothing, but his lip curled in what might have been a sympathetic grimace, and both sets of eyes were fixed on Song's people. She knew that when a batarian focused with all of his eyes, he was being honest. Were these two sadists feeling guilty about letting the fight go on in the first place? Had they encouraged the other guards not to step in until forced? Had they had a hand in whatever happened to Ric? She didn't dare ask about their absent arena guard just yet. She could only hope he'd turn up at dinner.

She said nothing, but tilted her chin up, locking eyes with both guards in turn for the first time since she had come. They'd seen her stand up to the muu and take back her teammates in the dining hall. There was no more hiding and pretending to be a demure, broken slave. To her intense gratification both guards looked away, if only for the fraction of a second. Then they turned and left, speaking to one another in whispered voices.

“Well,” Cale eased himself onto his bed with a grunt. “This was an experience. Let's never do it again.”

Five strode to his own bed and sat with a pained grimace. It took a great deal of effort for Song not to rush to her friend's side. He was still upset with her, she knew. She wanted to give him time and space to think over what she'd asked of him. Then she'd try again to seek forgiveness.

Rae led Brute to his bed and then plopped down beside him, cross legged like a child about to be given a lesson. It was good to see Rae's fear of Brute's darker side had faded so quickly and easily. What she wasn't certain would fade as fast was the little drell's rage at being struck by a guard. Song blinked in confusion as she realized she was happy to let Rae keep her anger. To let her use it when the time came to escape. Her old self would have told Rae to be calm, to keep that violence inside until it would eventually flow away. Except now hers wouldn't flow away either any more, so how could she expect someone else's to? She just hoped Brute would be able to help Rae channel her aggression in helpful ways. They didn't need her attacking any more guards like she had Ric.

Before Song could make it to her own bed, Septimus pulled her aside. She let him, not even caring that they were in full view of everyone. Most of the team was too busy assessing their injures to make a fuss over the freshly minted couple seeking some solitude.

The pair selected one of the beds at the back of the room and sat down, almost having to catching one another as they did. Once they were seated side by side Septimus turned to her, cupping her jaw gingerly in a hand. He angled her face this way and that, clucking with concern over every bruise. She allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of being fussed over. Let someone else do the worrying, if only for a moment. Then she too slid her arm up to gently check over the bruises forming on the turian's face. He leaned his head into her hand for a moment, closing his eyes. For seconds of eternity they sat that way. Supporting each other in the simplest manner possible. Holding one another up with fingertips.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Song asked, trying to block out the memory of Septimus on the ground being kicked mercilessly.

“Lucky for me we turians have plates of hard carapace over most of our vital areas. Most.” He flared his mandibles in a wry smile.

“Shirt off,” Song commanded without thinking. Then she looked down, blushing and blinking rapidly. No. She wouldn't allow herself to worry about this. They were in full view of the others and they were checking for injuries. 'Put those romantic thoughts away, you!'

Septimus did as he was told with a wince. Hard carapace or no, Song could tell that some of the kicks had hurt him. She could only hope not too badly. Outwardly his chest and sides did not bear much damage. A few older scars made white trails across grey skin and carapace both. She traced one with a careful hand. How many of these had he received the day that his Yellow Team had died?

Septimus watched her hands move over his ridged and scarred chest for a moment, as though considering. Then he looked up and met her eyes. “I saw you take some bad hits too.”

Song wasn't certain if he was just being concerned, or if he wanted her shirt off. Either way, she obliged, pulling it over head head and plopping it beside her. She wore a grey, uninteresting bra that did the job of keeping her chest out of the way during a fight, and little else. She wasn't concerned, knowing that her breasts were not an item of interest for Septimus anyway. Her experience with Bright Eyes had taught her that turians had no such obvious characteristics, and so did not find human ones particularly attractive one way or the other. Septimus hesitated, then timidly touched one of the bruises over Song's ribs. She hissed involuntarily at the touch and he jerked his hand back as though she'd struck him.

Song looked down at herself, having avoided it until that moment. One bruise was in the distinct shape of a boot. The other was more amorphous, but was probably born from a punch. She sighed resignedly. “I don't think any ribs are broken. Don't worry.”

Septimus' eyes were wide as she looked her over. A wave of self consciousness whooshed through her and she crossed her arms. The turian reached for her again, this time to run his hand down her arm to her elbow. She sat still, enjoying the warmth and realness of his touch, even as she gave him a questioning look. He met her gaze and shook his head. “Humans are so delicate. Soft... how is it you survive so well?”

“From what I have heard our home world was more hospitable than most,” Song shrugged. “But I'm not so soft.” Giving her best approximation of Cale's cocky grin she flexed her arm, making a muscle. She surprised herself with how big it had become. “See. All toughness.”

Septimus let out a little chuckle, mandibles flaring. He appreciatively examined her arm and shoulder. “Humans are an interesting people... you're the most interesting one.”

“Sooth talker.” She lowered her arm and settled her hands in his between them on the bed, like a bridge linking them together.

“Not really,” Septimus winced. “I'm not... I'm not very good at talking. I think your team forgets I exist half the time.”

“No they... well alright, maybe you are a bit quieter than we're used to. I was the least talkative one until you came along.” Song admitted. She hated to think that poor Septimus had risked the hatred and bullying of Green Team to rejoin Yellow, only to think that no one even noticed him. “Anyway, I know you're here.”

“Once I get my bow and can be more valuable in the arena-”

Song freed a hand, pressing a finger to his lips. In response he nibbled gingerly at her knuckles. She smiled, a blush warming her cheeks. “If we based our team on how useful everyone in in a fight, the only member would be Brute.”

Septimus let her hand slip back down to the bed. Part of her wished he would have continued his nibbling up her arm to... other places. Another part was happy to have a conversation with the man she had admired from afar for so long. Even though they had made their intention to be a pair official, she felt she didn't truly know him yet. Learning was an exciting adventure all its own. “You'll fit in here,” she said, instantly wishing she'd chosen something a bit more eloquent. “It's... just taking a little longer because you're not larger than life like the rest of them.”

“Even your salarian has a mouth on him,” Septimus shot a careful look in the direction of the rest of the team. Song cocked an eyebrow and Septimus backpedaled hastily. “Not that salarians can't be talkative I just- fuck. See, this is why I don't talk. I say the wrong thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm not...I'm not good at very much. The bow is really all I have. I can hardly walk without tripping over myself and I clearly should be kept away from conversations and polite company.”

“Good think there's no polite company around here.” She gave his hand a squeezing. Besides, you fought your way through a crowd of murderers today so your team could try to get to safety. You didn't hesitate. I think you're very brave. Sometimes brave... it's not always flashy or loud... or coordinated.”

Septimus laughed, blushing with mandibles tight to his jaw. “At least one of us knows what to say.” He held open his arms and without thinking Song slipped in, tucking her back against his rough, but warm chest and letting him fold himself around her. She inwardly commaned her aching ribs to 'fuck off with your bitching' as she let herself relax into the turian's embrace. It had been so long since she experienced this kind of skin to skin contact she had almost forgotten what it felt like. She knew to keep her spine aligned to one side of the prominent turian breast bone as she snuggled in, tucking up her legs, breathing in his musky, pleasant odor. She hoped she smelled alright. Turians had sensitive noses after all.

“So, Song, what are you going to do when we get out of here?” He asked, so calmly and casually that she didn't even blink. It was as if this conversation were happening in another world. One where they could escape any time they felt like it. Tomorrow even. Hell, tonight. Why not?

“I don't know. Find my family I suppose? I don't even know which colony I was born on. It might be gone. The slavers that took me might have razed it to the ground, my parents along with it.”

“Well you're cheerful.” Septimus rested his chin on her shoulder. His mandibles moving when he spoke brushed pleasantly against her neck.

“Sorry. I need to work on that. Cale's always on my case for being such a pessimist. I meant...When I get free I'm going on a grand tour of the galaxy. See the sights, meet new people.”

“Will you have room for a turian on your trip?”

“Sure, but wouldn't you want to get back to your own family?” She asked, idly exploring one of the small carapace plates on the back of his hand with her fingertips. Now that she was facing outward it was tempting to look back towards the others, but she resisted. She wanted to live in this moment, this alternate world, and not worry about her friends' judgement of it. That would come later.

“I'd visit my family,” Septimus breathed into her neck. “It will be strange. I will have seen things... done things... things my family can't imagine or relate to. There's a misconception that all turians join the military, but if that was true there would be no one to run the infrastructure, or farm the food, or build buildings. Someone has to invent and construct the weapons the soldiers use.”

“What did your family do?”

“My father worked in an office, if you can imagine that.”

Song decided not to admit that she had little idea what an office looked like, let alone a turian one. “And your mother?”

“She stayed at home with us.”

Song winced. She had forgotten how young Septimus had been when he'd been taken. Barely out of his teens. What a place to come of age, she thought, looking around at the tarnished white walls and identical beds. “Us? Did you have siblings?”

“A sister. Younger. At least, that's all I had when I left. Two is a common number of children for turian families, so they may have decided to have another after... after they figured out I wasn't coming back.”

Song felt Septimus sag slightly against her. The extra weight made her ribs scream, but she clenched her jaw and ignored them, glad Septimus couldn't see her face. “I doubt they'd replace you.”

“They might. I wasn't much of a son. I got along with my grandfather best. He taught me to use the bow. He had land on the outer reaches of the colony and I would stay with him for weeks, just enjoying the outdoors and learning whatever he would teach me.”

“He sounds amazing,” Song breathed. Even as she listened her mind was roiling with new realizations. She had only ever pictured a mother and father for herself, but now... were there siblings? Grandparents? Cousins? How many people were out there in the galaxy with a little piece of her inside them? How many people had cried when she was stolen from her home so young she couldn't even remember them? She should have felt sad, imagining all those weeping faces, that family. Instead the notion was intimidating. There was something to be said for having no familial ties. Other slaves were torn up inside when they were pulled away from parents or siblings. She had no such trouble. It had almost been a point of pride for her when the other slaves mourned lost families and she was always strong and stoic; no attachments.

Yet...

She gave in. Her eyes drifted down the room towards Yellow Team. Was it only because they routinely fought side by side for their lives that she felt so bonded to them? If they had all been slaves together in her old barracks, would they even be friends? Even she and Bright Eyes had known better than to become too attached. Song flinched, suddenly constricted in Septimus' arms rather than cuddled. She pushed away before she could stop herself. This wasn't right. She couldn't let him become too invested in her, she was going to die. They were all going to die.

Septimus' expression was more confused than hurt as she pulled free of his embrace. “Is it your wounds?” He asked worriedly.

“Yes,” she mumbled, confusion and sadness boiling in her chest. “My ribs are still sore and I...” she cut herself off. She wanted more than anything to tell him. Warn him not to get too attached, but somehow she couldn't. She couldn't look into his earnest, sweet face and tell him to keep his distance. She'd sooner punch Five in the face or tell Cale that he'd never see Luke again. Some wounds she could never inflict no matter what happened.

Instead she sat forward and kissed Septimus on the mouth. He jerked his head back, blinking confusedly. “What? What was that?”

“It's called a kiss. I'll teach you to do it if you'd like.”

“Is it how humans show affection?” He raised an eyebrow scale, considering her. He brushed his lips with his fingertips as though trying to understand what had happened.

“Yes. But usually only humans who are in a relationship kiss on the lips.”

“Hmmmm. I suppose it is easier when you have lips like yours, but alright. I'd like to learn.”

Song smiled, if a bit wolfishly, and cupped either side of his face, having to rise up onto her knees to be tall enough to kiss him properly. “Alright, lesson one.”

~~~~~

 

Song's lips were a bit chafed when she made her way back to her friends. Turian mouths in general were much rougher than human ones, even their tongue was drier and almost like leather. Song hadn't minded, though she had nearly jabbed her tongue multiple times on his needle-like teeth. By the end of their 'lesson' Septimus had decided he liked kissing and would enjoy trying it again... once Song's lips had recovered.

No one said anything as she moved sorely to her bed, but she could feel them staring. Let them stare, she thought fiercely. It didn't work and she knew she looked ashamed. As though her spending time with Septimus were somehow a betrayal. At least Rae was wearing more of a pleased smirk than a glare. She had returned to her own bed and was entertaining herself by building mountain ranges out of her blankets. She kept shooting sly glances up at Song, as though they shared some secret and the entire team had somehow not just witnessed the entire make-out session. For the most part everyone reserved their judgment of Septimus. Perhaps they figured that if Song liked him, she was free to kiss him, but they didn't have to like it. Cale was likely just missing Luke, and Five? Well, he was still angry with her so she supposed she could expect more glares.

Everyone was too sore, bruised and generally disheartened to do their exercises that day. Brute lay on his back, sightless eyes half closed, dozing. Five sulked, curling to face away from the others. Only Cale, unflappable Cale, seemed determined not to let the rotten mood spoil his day. Instead he got to his feet with a grunt of discomfort and plopped down beside Septimus on his bed. 'Oh great'. Song rolled her eyes, but couldn't bring herself to shuffled over to find out what the two boys were talking about.

The day dragged on. Each of them wallowed in the not-so-secret dread that dinner would be the same as breakfast. This time they were injured and beaten down. If the other teams attacked again it would take more than a last minute krogan charge to ensure they came out alive.

When Mordo and Ebb came to their door, it took them all longer than usual to drag their feet to the opening. The guards were surprisingly understanding. They griped and gave orders to “hurry up, slaves!” “Get off your lazy asses!” But their batons remained at their sides.

Song stood dutifully beside Brute's bed. The old krogan got ponderously to his feet, then grunted faintly and stumbled. She caught him, but he was much to heavy for her to support and they both ended up taking a knee. Her ribs shocked with hot pain and Song winced. “Brute,” she hissed worriedly, “are you alright?”

“Fine, fine.” He waved a hand vaguely. He grabbed his bed and managed to lever himself to his feet. At least he didn't try to use Song. She would have been crushed and even more injured. She stood ponderously and watched his creased face for any sign of pain. The others had all stopped, concern shining on their own faces.

“Keep moving,” grumbled Ebb automatically, though his heart didn't seem to be in it.

It was obvious that no one on Yellow intended to do so until they had determined whether their friend was alright. Song tilted her head, looking into Brute's sightless eyes. “Alright?”

In answer he placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned, uneasy, to lead. If he fell again she wouldn't be able to slow him down now that she was facing forward. She met the eyes of each of her teammates, mirroring their worry. Had the electricity from that guard's baton done some real damage to Yellow's largest member?

“Come on, Brute. Let's get dinner.” Rae spoke, her voice clear and a passable imitation of cheerfulness that would have done Cale proud.

Brute perked up at her words like she had injected him with some invisible tonic. Song began to walk, carefully at first, until it became evident that her friend could keep up their usual pace. Rae came to walk beside Brute, bumping her arm playfully against his from time to time to remind him she was there. Were it not for the difference in their species they might have been grandfather and granddaughter walking together.

Song braced for anything the moment they stepped into the crowded hall. To her surprise, everyone looked about as miserable as she and her team did. Almost no one had escaped injury from the krogan charge. The giants, for their part, had likely received extra punishment which had been administered back in their barracks. They were managing to look appropriately cowed as their guards glared them down. There were more guards than usual, and many drawn batons, as the whole somber procession funneled themselves into the dining hall.

The wait for their food was so civil it was eery. When Song let Brute go with Red Team to his line she braced to be set upon, already planning their battle strategy in her head. If they could run straight into that cluster of guards by the door, the guards would be forced to help, or be beaten to death as well. Instead, she barely got bumped when the occasional member of Black Team felt she was in their way, but this was tame, even by ordinary standards.

Song settled her tray at Yellow table and was soon joined by the others, including Brute, who was dropped off by his old team as usual. None of the krogan even looked at Yellow Team. It was as if that morning hadn't happened, even if they wore the bruises to prove it. The only thing that was missing was Ric, though Song caught sight of Nara moving with a pack of other guards as they patrolled the room. It was abundantly evident that Brute's inclusion in Yellow no long worried anyone, and the extra guard sought out more interesting employment. Song wondered how long it would be before Nara got herself reassigned back to Red.

“This is creepy,” muttered Five, sliding his tray in beside Cale. No one had even bothered to work out their usual seating arrangement. Song had no intention of spying on the other teams tonight. Tonight was about eating and trying not to let her aching ribs bother her too much. Five looked around surreptitiously. “I keep waiting for someone to give a signal and suddenly we're all dead.”

“Might still happen,” Brute rumbled, but Song could tell this was meant to be sarcastic by the faint curling of his lip. “Give it time.”

“I suppose I don't have a choice,” Five mused, tucking enthusiastically into his meal.

“At least we'll be well fed before we die.” Cale mixed all three of his foods together into a disgusting slurry that reminded Song of laundry water muck, and chowed down.

“How 'well' we're fed is a matter for debate,” Five countered around his own mouthful.

A tightness is Song's chest, which she had been attributing to her injuries, lessened. Her team was bantering, sassing one another, sometimes even managing a smile or two. What had happened that morning may have bent them, but it hadn't come close to breaking them. She felt Septimus' steady presence beside her and decided that if she ever did seek out her family, it couldn't possibly be as good as this one. By the end of the meal Cale had spun their whole experience to sound like they had taught all the other teams a lesson with their 'krogan airdrop'. He mocked the other teams, quietly enough so they couldn't hear of course, and proclaimed Yellow the most brilliant tacticians of them all with flourish of his spoon.

“I think the salarians might have other opinions on that point,” Five said, though he was grinning.

“Those windbags have opinions on a lot of things I'm sure, but they don't have krogans at their beck and call.”

Clearly Brute decided not to point out that he'd had to call in a favor to bring in that 'krogan airdrop'. He let Cale have his shining story of victory by superior planning. 'If only we could plan to have Red Team on our side again' Song thought as she chased down the last crumbs of her meal. She was still a bit peckish, but the hollowness in her belly from missing breakfast seemed to be filled satisfactorily.

Yellow Team managed to keep up their good mood as they walked back to their room. Again, no one attacked them, and while the other teams looked miserable and hateful, Yellow practically strolled. This time it wasn't just Brute presence that held the other teams at bay. It was what Brute represented. The power he still held over his old team and could apparently wield whenever he liked. The muu might ultimately want Yellow Team dead, but only if it could be broadcast for their bloodthirsty viewership. Even the guards were a bit edgy, though it was hard to tell if this was because of Red Team, or whatever punishments the muu had worked up for those who hadn't prevented the attack when it had begun. Song hoped some of them were getting fired.

Cale, Five, and Rae were able to do their stretches before bed. The rest of the team was too sore. Song tried a few, but her ribs screamed until she had to grit her teeth and focus on trying not to let the others see her eyes watering. Brute lay down on his bed and seemed to fall asleep early as Septimus and Song sat up, chatting with their friends as they worked through the stretches. Well, Song did most of the talking, but Septimus interjected occasionally and was rewarded with acknowledgment from the others.

Once the stretching was finished and the lights went out, Song did quick rounds to check on everyone before they fell asleep. “So,” she stopped at Cale's bed, folding her arms seriously. Her friend pulled his blankets up and blinked innocently at her.

“So?”

“What did you and Septimus talk about before? He won't tell me.”

“Oh, I just gave him 'the talk'.”

“The what?”

“'The talk'? The big brother talk? You know, where I warn him that if he's going to date you he has to treat you right and if he hurts you I hurt him. Standard stuff.” Cale extracted a hand from under the blankets and waved it vaguely. “I figured, since you didn't have a brother to do it, I had better.”

Song wasn't certain how to answer this. She wanted to scold him for taking liberties like that, but at the same time her heart did a pleased little dance at him declaring himself her brother. “You didn't frighten him did you? I don't need you chasing him off. I only just convinced him to give relationships with humans a try.”

“Give him some credit,” Cale snorted. “He's a whole lot harder to scare than that. I think you've caught yourself a good one, Song. If I do say so myself.”

Song smiled, though her heart twinged. Did Cale expect her and Septimus to be forever like him and Luke? Could she ever bring herself to think that way? Nothing was forever when you were a slave, and that was still drilled into her as deep as her core. She swallowed the icy sadness back down and gave Cale her best, emotionless stare.

The man grimaced and waved her off. “Stop doing that. You know it's creepy! Go creep out your boyfriend.”

Song playfully swatted Cale' foot, letting her emotions slip back onto her features. “You still feeling alright after this morning?”

“Sure. My knuckles hurt like hell, but otherwise I'm good.” Cale said, tucking himself down into his bed and managing to look passably comfortable.

Song nodded and moved on, stopped at the foot of Five's bed. “How about you? Still hanging in?”

The salarian shot her a brief glance, then curled onto his side. “Yes. I'm fine.”

Song pursed her lips. How long could he hold a grudge? What she's asked him to do had certainly been harmful to him, and she hated to think that she might have placed him close to death again. It had been necessary, however, and she had known he could do it, even if he hadn't. She opened her mouth, ready for something encouraging to come out. No words found their way past her lips and she hung her head, moving on to Rae.

“What about you, Little Sister?” She tilted her head.

“Only Brute gets to call me that,” Rae said, though she didn't sound annoyed. “I'm alright. Better than I was. I don't like it when guards hurt me. It makes me think of...” she blinked rapidly and Song wondered if she was fighting back a memory that would cause her to go into one of her trances. The drell shook her head. “It just reminds me of a bad time.”

“I can understand that,” Song agreed. She had seldom needed disciplining back home, but sometimes other muu would visit the house and think it was perfectly alright to abuse the slaves. There had even been a few new slaves who had thought they were more deserving of respect who had gotten aggressive with Song and some of the other women. They'd all been put in their place by the masters. She realized with a jolt that she still missed her old masters. The very people who had enslaved her for life and sold her when they were finished like she was on old piece of furniture. How could she still miss them? “How about injuries? Anything hurting more now that you've stretched?”

“No,” Rae shook her head. “I slipped out of the fight right away and ran for Brute so all I got were some bruises.

Song nodded, bid the drell goodnight, and moved on to Septimus' bed. She stopped there to 'practice' a few more kisses before she finally retreated to her own bed, beside Brute. She sat down, pulled her pillow her arms and hugged it, watching the krogan for a long moment, studying his breathing, looking for any sign that something was wrong. He must have felt her gaze because he turned his head in her direction. “It's rude to stare.”

“Sorry,” she cut her eyes down. “I just... I wanted to make sure you're alright.”

Brute grunted in an almost laugh. “I've had better days. I've had worse.”

“Are you feeling like... like trying to...” she could bring herself to finish.

“Kill myself? Yeah.” He said it so bluntly, so abruptly that it almost didn't register.

“I.. erm...” Even though Brute had plenty of dark days like this, Song still didn't know how to deal with them. She clasped her hands hard between her knees and asked earnestly, “would you have let that guard kill you?”

Brute said nothing for a moment. “When does it end, Song? My people aren't supposed to die of old age. How much more gets taken from me before I'm allowed to go?”

Song didn't have an answer. Maybe there was no answer. Her heart was hollow and all she wanted to do was find a way to siphon some of the hope that had begun building inside her into him. Hell, she'd give it all to him if she could only find a way. She dug into her palm with a fingernail until it stung. “What about physically. How badly are you hurt, and be honest with me?” She managed to inject some modicum of authority into her tone.

“I'll recover. It'll sting for a bit, that's all. The electricity didn't do me any favors, but it wasn't anything by body can't handle, given time. When I was young they could have done that to me all day and I would have walked it off.”

Song hesitated, uncertain where she wanted the conversation to go next. She didn't want to leave Brute alone with his dark thoughts. “S-Septimus asked me earlier what I want to do when I get free. It's a stupid game, but why don't we play it a little bit now? Imagine we got free, where would you go?”

Brute blinked foggy eyes. They glowed faintly with the light from the tables. “You think I haven't played this game before?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I admit, it has been a while. All the things I wanted to see... well, I won't be seeing them any more.”

“What about traveling?” Song pressed doggedly. “Do you want to go back to your home world? Maybe find out if you have family there?”

“Nah. I know about Tuchanka. It's a shit hole. I'd like to see earth.”

“Earth?”

“Yeah. I've heard you guys still have grass, trees, air that doesn't smell like irradiated feces”

“I wouldn't know.” Song shrugged. “The muu home world was beautiful too. The weather wasn't ideal, but even the storms could be something to see... when they weren't tearing the roof off the house. Once I went out in the eye of a storm. The sky was green and black and the air was so still it was like the whole planet was holding its breath. It makes you feel small, but in a good way. Like you're part of something so much bigger and more wonderful than you can even grasp.”

“You're in a poetic mood.” Brute chuckled.

“Maybe, I guess. If... if you go to earth I'll go with you. We all will. I think Cale has a home there and we can all stay with him and his husband whether they like it or not because who's going to argue with a krogan?”

“Heh heh heh. We'll eat him and his tiny family out of house and home.”

“I know you're talking about me!” Cale called from his bed. “And I want to go on record as not agreeing to whatever scheme you're working up!”

“Try and stop us,” Song shot back, her lips twitching into a sassy grin. She turned to Brute again. “That's settled. When we get free, we all go to earth and bother Cale until he kicks us out. Then we'll head for the stars and tour the galaxy. Maybe stop at every bar we find and compare them all.”

Brute's expression grew distant. She was losing him and she wasn't certain she could stop it, even if she tried. They both knew this 'plan' was the ramble of the damned. He more than anyone knew what it was to live as everyone around him died. While Song tried to keep Septimus at arms length, Brute had been forced to do that so many times he might not remember what 'forever' looked like. Song flexed her hands open. They were beginning to ache she was clasping them so hard. She bit her lip, then spoke. “Brute... I just... I can't... I can't guarantee we'll always be here. You know that. I know that. I think Cale even knows that. But until-” to her surprise tears sprang into her eyes. She hadn't cried in a long time and she wasn't entirely certain what to do about it. “Until we're all killed... we won't leave you. You've got us, whether you like it or not, alright? Even if they switch you to another team, I don't give a fuck. We're still friends. I know we can't make this world better, or make you want to stay in a place that's so shitty, but while you're here, so are we.” Whispered Tirade over Song let a few tears roll down her cheeks onto the pillow in her lap.

Brute said nothing. She wasn't certain that he'd even heard her. Then he let his arm fall to his side, hand open. Song put hers into it. His palm was wider and his fingers thicker than Septimus' but his hand was likewise dry and warm. They fell into a stillness and let themselves be transported to another place and time. There was no barracks, no Yellow Team, no one at all. They drifted in space, holding hands, and it was almost beautiful.

Finally Brute spoke again, his tone clear and steady. “By the way, Song, I wanted to congratulate you for today. I think you made a real impression on the game makers. One I've never seen a human make.”

“Yeah,” Song twisted her free hand uneasily around the pillow. “I'm not so sure that's a good thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slower chapter. A nice 'recovery' chapter to let the characters breathe and lick their wounds. Also let's get to know poor Septimus better. Now to convince the rest of the team to like him as much as Song does. Alas Five is still holding that grudge, and Brute is still having a bad time. Hopefully I didn't get too mushy. Song, you have a cool fam, don't let them die!


	21. Radical Dreamers

Chapter 21  
Radical Dreamers

Ric appeared at breakfast the next morning and was alternately furious and concerned, fussing over Cale's swollen knuckles and even managing to wrangle some ice to put on them. Song was glad of this, as her friends hands were looking worse and were almost too painful for him to grip a fork. Close as they might be, she wasn't sure how she felt about feeding him. She suspected Ric might have done it without having to be asked.

“I can't believe those idiots let a riot happen right under their noses and just watched!” Ric ranted as he sat on the edge of their table with one of Cale's hands in his lap, applying ice.

“We were worried they'd done something to you.” Cale clumsily scooped a spoonful of fruit paste with his off hand.

“I had leave. Went planet-side for the day. Those bastards! They knew I wouldn't stand by and let Yellow Team get ganged up on so they made sure I was out of the picture.” Ric fumed.

“Look at it this way, it would have been much worse for you if you came down on our side.” Cale pointed out. “Stun baton or no, you would have been in the same boat as us.”

“Did anything happen to the guards who let the fight go on?” Rae asked.

“Yes and no.” Ric rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, though you slaves are valuable as players in The Game, you're not nearly as valued as the guards. Most of them were docked pay. Slaps on the wrist all around. If more people had died it might have been another story.”

Song wondered what it would take to get the muu to see the fighters as people rather than pieces to be played on a game board. Had yesterday simply been the equivalent of a naughty child spilling the pieces to the floor? A firm scolding in order, and nothing else? She set her jaw and kept her face as passive as ever. Ric was one of the only guards who hadn't seen her step up to a muu and he didn't seem to have been told. It was probably best to keep it that way. Let him fawn over Cale and forget Song existed.

“I hear it all ended with a krogan charge. That must have been something! I caught a little of the security feed this morning, but I don't think it did the thing justice. What was it like, seeing it first hand?” Ric swapped which of Cale's hands he was icing.

No one answered at first, then Rae put on a decidedly false expression of joviality, “it was amazing! So cool to witness! All those big, strong krogan smashing everyone to a pulp!”

Ric bought her enthusiasm and grinned, “I'll bet it was. Glad things worked out in the end.”

Song had to work to keep her herself in check. She wanted to shout in the guard's face that nothing had worked out for the best. That Brute had tried to kill himself via guard and the rest of the team was very nearly killed or maimed. Her ribs were still burning annoyingly, though she did her best to appear unbothered in front of her team. Most of them still moved like elderly versions of themselves with much grunting and groaning.

“Well, after yesterday you can bet we're being more vigilant.” Ric raised his chin. “No more funny business around here.”

“Why did they let it happen in the first place?” Rae asked, swishing what remained of her breakfast unappetizingly around her tray.

“Lots of the guards lost bets in that match you won. Substantial bets, mind you. They laughed when they saw the course, counting on the salarains to get the win. Said it was easy money. None of them had any idea you could fly like that.” Ric looked admiringly down at Cale, his eyes shining with a warmth Song was coming to know well. Cale was in fine form and managed to reward the infatuated guard with one of his winning grins.

“Perhaps I should keep my talents under my hat from now on.” Cale sighed. “Look where it got us.”

“It might have earned us enough points for that bow,” Five pointed out.

“Very true. Now that will be a sight!” Ric beamed. Song had to admit that his plain, uninteresting face was somewhat improved by a smile, even if he did so while still chewing doggedly at his ever present gum. “It'll be like old times! Yellow Team at its finest.”

Septimus flinched against Song's shoulder. She didn't dare look at him now. How long had the previous Yellow Team lasted 'at its finest' before a death match had facilitated their doom? Was being in good shape the worst thing Yellow Team could do?

~~~~~

“Next time we're in the arena, I want us to fail.” Song paced up and down, her teams watching her quizzical.

“Excuse me?” Cale cocked an eyebrow. “Fail?”

“Yes.” Song rounded on him, her expression intense. “Not only because winning gets the shit kicked out of us in the dining hall, but because the more we win, the less we fit the archetype of the underdogs. If we're not underdogs then the game makers might start thinking thoughts of death matches. As much as it kills me to say, we have to lose, and lose hard.”

“That shouldn't be too much of a challenge. The only way we win is if the game makers hand it to us on a platter,” Five pointed out. She sat cross legged on his bed levitating two pillows before him. Speaking distracted his attention and one dropped to the floor with a soft 'pomf'

“We need to hide and cower and do what we used to do when we started,” Song pressed on.  
“Keep your heads down so you don't get noticed?” Cale suck out a foot to stall Song's pacing. “I suppose that's what you learned as a slave?”

“Yes,” She deftly avoided his foot. “It is.”

“She's right,” Septimus raised his head, his green eyes distant, lost in some dark memory. “If we want to stay alive we had better fit the mold and fit it well.”

“Forgive me if that feels like a few hundred steps backward.” Cale folded his arms.

“I'm not going to let any guards push me around,” Rae snapped. She had been doing pushups beside her bed and her face appeared over the edge wearing a defiant glare.

“We all need to be on board with this,” Song said, despair crawling through her, ice in her veins. She wanted... she needed these people to live. Why were they so determined to seal their own coffins?

“She's right,” Brute's rumbling voice stalled any further protests. “It'll be a change for me most of all. I come from a team accustomed to winning, heh heh heh. Still, I've seen more death matches than you have years, Little Sister. You don't want to be in one of those. No one does. We salves have more power than you know. We have the power to prevent a death match. We can keep the muu from thinking we're anything more than the tiny, unfortunately team people can cheer for, but never bet on. If we want to stay alive we have to be those underdogs.”

Everyone fell silent for a long moment. Song could feel the discontent permeating the room like a fog. Rae was doing the world's angriest set of pushups and Five let both pillows fall, his expression going blank and distant as Septimus'. Song looked to Brute, as though he could see the desperation she dared to show on her face. He said nothing, gazing sightlessly at the floor.

Song's hands balled into fists. “I didn't say we would stop fighting.”

Cale raised his head first, and she met his eyes fiercely.

“We're pretending. We're acting. Even back home we slaves knew far more than our master's ever guessed, and we got away with far more. We can do the same here. We can plot, we can scheme, we can figure out what those fucking salarians are up to. We just have to put on a good show for the game makers. We're not giving up, we're changing the game to suit us.”

“It doesn't suit me,” huffed Rae, appearing over the top of her bed again to glare.

“It will in the long run,” Song countered, her tone defiant.

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?” Cale's expression was open, honest and filled with so much hope it was almost painful to look at.

Song winced, but forged ahead, hoping she wouldn't regret this speech later. “Yes. You've brainwashed me Cale. I'm saying we aren't going to kowtow to these game makers any more and we're certainly not going ti sit around waiting for the arena day that ends all our lives. We're going to find fucking way out of here!” She stopped, breathing hard, realizing she'd raised her voice to almost a defiant yell. Hopefully no guards were walking by outside. She dipped her head, suddenly embarrassed.

No one spoke for a long moment. Perhaps they were listening to be certain Song's monologue hadn't been overheard. Finally Cale raised his fist. “I'm with you, Song. You knew I would be. Let's get out of here.”

To Song surprise it was Brute who spoke next. “Let's go.”

Rae sat up and raised both fists. “Fuck the game makers, fuck this place. We're out.”

Song looked to Five and Septimus. Five was watching her with a confused expression that stung worse than her aching ribs. Was she turning into someone her friend couldn't understand? He'd been a slave since birth. Maybe there was no defiant warrior inside him as there was in her. Had she truly lost him in her wild new cause? Finally, staring right into her eyes so intensely she almost looked away, he raised a fist. Biotics boiled around his fingers and every pillow in the room lifted two inches off their beds. Five's mouth was set in a hard line as he nodded fractionally before lowering his hand, and the pillows.

With a bright fire blazing in her chest Song turned last to Septimus, who flared his mandibles admiringly. “After a speech like that I think I'd follow you off the edge of a cliff.” He raised his fist.

~~~~~

They dutifully kept up the plan to keep their heads down all week. It wasn't difficult in the dining hall, as they had never made much of a fuss to begin with, but that didn't change the fact that almost everyone knew that Brute had called for the krogan charge and Song had stood up to a game maker. Now Song and Cale allowed themselves to be bumped and buffeted in the food line. The guards were still plentiful, so the jostling was tame enough for the moment.

Song's ribs were beginning to show signs of healing and she could sit and talk without much pain, though certain positions were worse than others. She still limited the exercises she did each day, unable to handle many of them. By the end of the week her bruises were fading and most of Yellow Team was able to walk without limping. Even Brute, who still seemed stiff and sore at times, had no more incidents. Song kept a close eye on him just the same.

~~~~~

“Alright, moment of truth,” Cale said as he took the datapad with their item purchase list on it. “Let's see what we can afford.”

Song waited quietly to the side as always, but now she noticed that the slave who held the datapad was looking at her searchingly. The white clad woman looked from Song to Cale and back again. Had she heard about Song's actions at the beginning of the week? How she had outed herself as Yellow's leader in such spectacular fashion? Song cast her eyes to the floor, expression skillfully neutral. She knew that even another slave would lose interested if she kept it up and was gratified when she glanced up a few moments later to see that no one was looking at her. She still had it. An ability to rival even Five's invisibility.

She shot a sideways look at the salarian. Was he still so annoyed with her that he wouldn't take her hand as they headed into the arena? She thought about stepping through the wide door without her friend's supportive touch. Of facing whatever waited without the reassurance that Five had her back, and she his.

“We did it! It took every last credit we had, and I even used a little of the old charm to barter down the price.” Cale rejoined the group, loud and exuberant as ever. He waggled his eyebrows at Song and gestured to Septimus, who was being handed a tall, elegantly curved bow.

Song took in a breath as she admired the weapon. Unlike the shoddily constructed items the rest of Yellow was expected to use, this bow was crafted and sturdy. Song had never seen one so close before and she couldn't help but run an admiring hand over the upper limb. It seemed to be made of a special metal Song couldn't identify, smooth, cool and flexible. She looked up into Septimus' beaming face. “Will it do?”

 

“Just about.” He grinned with spread mandibles.

Five passed him the four arrows they had to their name. “We might want to try to earn a few points in there today.” He gestured with his head towards the big doors at the far end of the room. “This is all the ammo we have.”

Septimus checked each arrow expertly before arranging them in his belt. “I could use a quiver too.” He commented. “In battle I'll have to hold them in my teeth so I can reload quickly. Not ideal, especially if we get ambushed.”

“One thing at a time,” Cale raised his hands. “I got you a bow, isn't that good enough?”

Song opened her mouth to argue that they had all worked together to bring Septimus the weapon, but then recalled Cale's astounding piloting skills and kept her mouth shut. Instead she looked around at Green Team. She jumped when she immediately locked eyes with Empress. The tough turian leader was glaring with such fire that Song felt it scorch her face. No doubt Empress was regretting not fighting for Septimus to stay with them, and also furious that the game makers might allow him the very weapon she had kept back from him. A few of the other turians were passing their bow back and forth between them, trying to figure out if anyone was any good with it.

Septimus slung his bow over his shoulder and followed Song's gaze to Empress. He winced. “We're no friends to Green Team anymore. The days of possible alliance are long gone.”

“It doesn't have to be this way,” Rae muttered between gritted teeth. “Just because the game makers say 'don't team up' and give us stupid punishments if we do, does that mean we have to listen to them?”

Septimus shuddered. “You didn't see the punishment Green got after our first alliance. All you had to do was huddle in a cave and lose the fight. We... we weren't so lucky.”

Rae cut her eyes down, the closest to apologetic she was going to get.

“I wonder how they'd punish the krogan,” Cale mused as he helped distribute the rest of their gear. Song was pleased that almost every space on her belt was filled with canisters of medigel. Soon they'd have too much to carry with them. She supposed there were advantages to keeping their heads down and not winning sometimes. No wounds meant no need for healing.

“We're moving.” Brute spoke up and Song realized that he was right. The everyone was being shunted into position to enter the arena. She turned and set Brute's hand as naturally as if she had done it every day all her life. Already she couldn't think of walking down the hall or entering the arena without Brute walking just a bit behind her. Without her keeping an eye out for and warning him about trip hazards and sudden stops. “We're going slow today. They're filtering the teams in differently so its stop and go.”

“Right,” Brute grunted. “How is it different today?”

Song stood on tiptoe, squinting through the throng of taller aliens. Five spoke up, “It looks like each member is going in one at a time.”

“One at a time?” Rae tucked herself in beside Brute. “What does that mean?”

“Easy, kid,” Cale reassured her. “We've done this dance before. Once we were separated on islands, but it was just a matter of swimming back together and we were a team again.”

Song swallowed hard. Swimming. Would there be water in the arena again today? Her heart started its wild dance of panic even though she could barely see the door. Her head immediately filled with memories of drifting, weightless and powerless, just below the surface. If her friends hadn't pulled her out...

Subconsciously she gripped her polearm tighter, as though the weapon could comfort her as well as Five's hand. Then she gritted her teeth and muttered, “oh fuck it,” quietly enough that the others didn't hear. Then she reached out and snatched up Five's hand. To her immense gratification he did not swat hers away, but instead folded his long fingers around hers, however grudgingly.

It took what seemed like an age for it to finally be Yellow Team's turn. By that time they had been able to watch several other teams go in and increased their understanding of what was happening. Song leaned back towards Brute. “They're taking them all in one at a time instead of splitting them up once they're in the arena..”

“Hmm,” The krogan responded. “Probably seeding us around the arena. Can you see anything through the door?”

“No. It's dark.”

“You'll be fine.” Ric was standing nearby. He'd been his quiet, disinterested self most of their time in the arming room, but now he pushed himself away from the wall where he'd been slouching. “Easy one today. At least for you.”

“At least for us? The hell is that supposed to mean?” Rae's hands balled into fists. “Five. Give me my sword now. If we're getting separated I'm not going weaponless.”

Five gave Song a worried glance, then passed Rae her weapon. Ric stepped back as though the little drell might make another swipe for him, even though they were surrounded by guards. Nara was standing near the entry way, ushering the last of the salarian team inside and she looked up to give Rae a stern glare.

“It means it'll be easy to keep your heads down, which I recommend you do.” Ric folded his arms.

“Okay. Good.” Song mumbled. “But let's try to get together if we can, alright? Like with.... like with the water arena.”

“Right,” Cale agreed. “We're better as a team.”

“Alright. Who's first?” A guard Song didn't know asked, looking deeply bored as Yellow Stepped up for their turn at last.

Song peered into the waiting gloom beyond the door. “It looks like a cave,” she hiss over her shoulder to Brute, who nodded.

“Interesting.”

“Well?” The guard snapped, looking less bored and more annoyed by the second.

“Fine. Me. I'll go first.” Rae raised her hand.

'Please don't attack a guard, please don't attack a guard', Song thought to her friend's retreating back as she watched Rae disappear from sight with alarming speed.

“Next.” Nara stepped forward to guide someone else.

“I'll go,” Septimus spoke up. Song shot him a surprised glance. He shrugged. “We'll find each other. I doubt it matters what order we go in.”

Ric shook his head fractionally. “If you're smart you'll stay put. The less wandering the better.”

“Next.” A fresh guard, a batarian with a scar that split his upper lip almost in two, cast all four eyes balefully over Yellow.

Five let go of Song's hand and she had to struggle to keep herself from reaching for it again like a child. “I suppose that'll be me,” Five said with a confidence Song knew he didn't feel. She watched as his lanky form was eaten up by the darkness of the tunnel.

“Me last,” Cale waved off the next guard. Song shot a sideways look at her human companion. His face had gone pale and he was sweating noticeably as he stared into the waiting cave mouth.

“What about it, Grandpa?” A turian guard eyed Brute up and down.

“Can't we go in together? He's blind so he needs me-” Song began.

“Shut it!” The guard barked, leveling a deadly glare at Song. His baton was out so quickly and easily she hardly noticed him reaching for it. “Do I take the krogan in next or not?”

“You.... you have to lead him.” Son let all the authority drain from her voice and posture. Play the timid slave. Duck your head and shuffle your steps. Already the guard was softening, placated. She lifted Brute's hand from her shoulder and settled it on the guard's, keeping up her blank mask and cowed posture. Inwardly she was screaming. They couldn't take Brute. Who knew what he would do alone out there. He'd willingly walk into a trap if he could, and there was a good chance the salarians were planning plenty. She'd have to find him as quickly as possible.

“Your turn.” Ric stepped forward to lead Song. It was obvious he wanted to go with Cale, but a different guard had already taken the spot beside the man. Song took one more uneasy look at her friend, who seemed as breathless and pale as she had been when she'd been faced with deep water. She wished she could ask him what was wrong, but instead put her head down and followed Ric.

She had been right. It was a cave. The walls were intricately crafted and seldom repeated the same rock patterns. She wondered how much the designers of the arena were paid. Was it a cushy job? Did they enjoy creating worlds for people to die in? Song gasped as he tripped over a small rock protruding from the floor, cursing under her breath. No matter how well that job might pay, she could certainly never bring herself to do it.

Ric led her down one dim passage and then another and another until she was completely turned around and wishing Rae was with her. There was almost no light except for a mechanical torch Ric was carrying, and the golden glow of Song's team armband. “So it's another maze then?” Song asked.

“Seems that way,” Ric gave her a thin, sarcastic smile. She wasn't used to him having a sassy side. Possibly he was still stinging from not getting to accompany Cale. “Look, just keep your head down and find a nice place to hide. There's whole sections of this maze I bet teams will never even find.”

“Are there Easter Eggs again? To make us want to come out of hiding?”

“I suspect so,” Ric took another turning leading to a dead end. On the floor Song spotted her starting pad, glowing faintly neon. “It wouldn't hurt you to find a few of those, but I'd advise you to stay away from the other teams. They're... well they're looking for an excuse. No one is happy about what happened in the dining hall.”

“No one including us,” Song pointed out as she dutifully took her spot on the pad. How far was she from her friends? How far were they from the other teams? What if they had all been seeded amongst one another and a step off the pad meant walking straight into an enemy's sword? She swallowed and shook out her hands before she could clench them into painful fists again. “Any other tips?”

Ric shot a distracted look over his shoulder, perhaps wondering if he could get to Cale in time to wish him luck before the match started. Song rolled her eyes and waited for an answer. “Not really. After the high tempo of the last game I suspect the audience is in the mood for something more low-key and tense. Hence a dark maze and splitting up the teams.”

“Right,” Song bent her knees a few times, making certain her leg muscles hadn't stiffed. No good stepping off the pad and into a charlie-horse.

“Good luck. Keep your head down,” Ric waved vaguely at her and departed without ceremony.

Song watched him, folding her arms. “If only I could,” she muttered. Keeping her head down would be fine and all, if she didn't have a team out there spread amongst a pack of killers all looking for an excuse to make an example of them.

“Welcome, everyone, to The Game!” The disembodied voice boomed through the cave as though the thick walls of stone did not exist. Song had to remind herself they didn't. This made her wonder; could sound pass more easily through walls made of light? Could she hear enemies long before she stumbled upon them? Experimentation was needed. “Today's game is one of luck and cleverness! At the center of the maze is a golden prize! Seek it out and special rewards will be yours! However, only those who reach the center to find the treasure will be rewarded. If only one member of a team finds it, only that member will receive winner's treatment!”

“Oh good, now they'll be fighting amongst themselves too,” Song mused as she crouched more comfortably on her starting pad. Her ribs burned dully, but she was able to ignore them easily enough. If they got to be too annoying she did have medigel at her disposal here.

“All wounds will be worth fifteen points today, kills worth five!”

Song raised her brows to hear the low numbers, but she supposed the game makers wanted the focus to be on inter-team squabbles. Let the teams trying to screw their own members over as each wanted to keep the prize for themselves. Some wouldn't go for it. She couldn't see the turians falling into the trap. They'd likely try to get as many of their people to the prize as possible.

BONG!

There was no sky for a light to shine in, but the ceiling above her glowed faintly and Song was able to see down the path more easily for the moment. Once that light was gone she would only have what little was cast from her armband. Any advantage it offered would only make her more noticeable. She gripped her polearm in ready position, just in case.

BONG!

“Come on already. We get it,” she griped, looking at the ceiling as though the game makers could hear her. She wondered if tiny cameras were hidden behind rocks and lichen.

A few interminable seconds passed before the final 'BONG' sounded and Song stepped from her pad into the fresh gloom. She had tried her best to memorize the path ahead for any bad steps or outcroppings while there had been light, but she still managed to catch her elbow on a bit of jutting rock. She bit down on her lip to keep from swearing as she rubbed her elbow vigorously. 'Alright... where would they take my team? Maybe Yellow will be kept closer together so we'll huddle up and make good underdogs?'

Song crept along, taking every left turning in an attempt to keep track of where she was, though she had no true way of knowing. She listened so keenly that twice she jumped and spun to face an enemy, only to find that she had kicked a rock and the echo was what had startled her. After what felt like at least twenty minutes she was beginning to think she was the only one in there. Then she spotted another short dead end path with a starting pad identical to hers only...”Blue.” She swallowed. At least one asari could still be in the area. She didn't like to think of how deadly biotics would be in these tight quarters.

She heard the sound of footsteps and froze, ducking back around the bend to the dead end and crouching, polearm tucked tight to her side, ready to stab. If the newcomer was a turian or krogan she'd need a lot of force to make a dent, and she didn't want to merely enrage her foe. Her arm muscles bunched powerfully in ready anticipation of the motions Brute had drilled into her.

A long shadow crept along the opposite wall and Song understood that what she faced was no krogan or turian. Likely a salarian. She adjusted her grip on the polearm. She could use a salarian. Maybe she could get them to tell her more details of their escape plan. First she'd have to wound, but not incapacitate them.

“Five!” she gasped as the owner of the shadow came around the corner. She'd caught herself mid-swing, the polearm's keen blade stopping inches from her friend's exposed side.

Five gasped, staggering back, the dagger he had been hovering before him hitting the ground with a clatter. He swore in what Song could only guess was the salarian language, though she suspected Five had learned to curse in a variety of tongues growing up on a slave transport. “Watch where you point that thing!” He scolded in a furious whisper.

“Sorry. I thought you were a member of Grey.”

“And you would have gutted me,” He scowled, then grabbed the end of the polearm, just below the blade and adjusted her aim. “Here. This blow wouldn't be lethal.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Song straightened, pulling the weapon up straight like a walking stick at her side. “Have you... have you encountered anyone else?”

“Saw two humans a while back. Avoided them.” Five reached out with his biotics and plucked the fallen dagger from the ground, whipping it around himself with surprising grace.

“You're getting good at that.”

“Yeah,” He gave her a cheeky smile and Song's heart lifted. It was good to see something besides a glare from him. “So we're trying to find the rest of the team, yeah?”

“I'd at least like to track down Brute,” Song nodded. “I don't like him alone out there.”

Five's expression grew more serious with understanding. “Right. You came from this way?” He gestured down one path.

“Yes. And you came from that way, so that leaves this.” Song pointed to the remaining fork to her right. She had to adjust her thinking for a moment to make the route gel with her 'only left turns' plan. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Five dipped his head, indicating Song should take the lead. This she did, lowering her polerarm into ready position at her hip again. Five moved close behind her, though not so near that he'd be struck by the butt of her weapon in a fight. She could feel the gentle tickle of biotic energy as he hovered the dagger, ready for use.

“It seems like using your biotics doesn't drain you as much as it did,” Song commented in a hushed voice.

“Some doesn't.” There was a bite to Five's words that made her wince. He softened, “Look, Song, I know I've been a little... standoffish since that night with the salarian.”

“I shouldn't have asked you to-”

“Shut up. Listen. I wish you hadn't asked me. I wish I didn't have to do it, but I did. It was terrifying and when I was done I felt like someone had leeched all my energy away. I could barely keep myself upright, but I did it. It was shitty, but I did it.”

“Five I-”

“What part of 'shut up' are you having trouble with?”

Song shot a glance over her shoulder and caught the laughter shining in his dark eyes. She put on a serious expression and nodded to indicate that she was finished interrupting.

“I was pretty mad at you. I never thought you'd tell me to put myself at death's door again. You're my best friend after all, not just my leader. Then it happened and I got to thinking: Five, you idiot, you have this awesome ability and you're refusing to use it and getting pissed when your friends need you to.” He gave a dry chuckle. “So I... I started practicing. At night, when everyone was asleep. Just a little bit. Just enough to drain me like a good run might. I wanted to see if I could get stronger. Get better at it.”

Both fell silent to listen in the dimness. Distantly Song heard footsteps, at least two pairs, but after a few minutes of following the sound, she discerned it came from the other side of the wall. They stood in silence for a long time before they finally dared to get moving again.

“Well?” Song tilted her head towards her friend.

“Well what?”

“Did it get easier? Did you get better at it?”

“A little.” Five raised the hand that was not controlling the dagger and held it before his face. Both his fingers vanished more quickly than Song had ever seen. There was no creeping invisibility, they were simply gone. “I could never do this while moving before.”

“Not bad,” Song raised both eyebrows.

“I can even do my whole body and walk around for a bit,” Five said, “but that takes a lot out of me. It seems like it works better if I have heightened emotions too. Especially... especially fear.”

“Plenty of that to go around here.” Song checked carefully around their next turning. Yet another dark and empty passage. How big was this maze?

“Right.” Five agreed with her. “I was already annoyed with you too because it seemed like you were finally buying the insanity Cale was selling. All that shit about getting free... We knew better, I thought. You and I. We were the ones with a grip on reality. Then even the krogan started listening to your wild schemes and I figured I was the only one left with sense.”

“You might be,” Song shrugged.

“Anyway, I got to thinking about the plan. Or whatever plan we could hope to have. How we learned to deactivate our cuffs and that the salarians were plotting an escape. I still think trying to escape is a bad idea... but staying here? That's a worse idea. Nearly dying in the dining hall really hit that home for me. There's no way to just survive here. No way to keep our heads down. We're going to die in this arena. That's the plan and it has always been the plan. I'm only seven years old. I'm not living the rest of my life in this place. If I die young it's going to be my fucking doing, not some game maker decreeing it.”

Song glanced back at Five. Seven? What was the human equivalent? He was so mature, even, she suspected, for a salarian. She decided not to press it and instead asked, “so you're really with us? We're all escaping?”

“As bad of an idea as most of me still thinks it is... yeah. I'm with you. You're sure as fuck not leaving me here.”

Song stifled a laugh. They walked on for a few more moments in the still corridors, the only sounds were their footfalls on stone. Inside Song was alight with a strange, disjointed happiness. She should not be so eager to set out on what would almost certainly be a suicide mission, yet here she was. Having Five as her true ally again was like regaining a lost brother. A part of her she hadn't realized she could lose until the moment he'd first withdrawn from her. Now she shot him an eager little smile, allowing the emotion freely onto her face. “I've been asking all the others: when we get out, where do you want to go?”

Five shrugged. “A few salarians I've met have talked about something called the STG. Special Tasks Group, I think it means. Salarians who get things done. Travel the galaxy.”

“Like... like police?”

“Secret police,” Five corrected her. “I'm young, I've got skills, and I'm trainable. The idea is very appealing.” He hesitated, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Look at this. Two seconds in and you've got me thinking about a future I never even bothered to admit I wanted. We've both lost it, Song. It's too late for us.”

“Radical dreamers, you and me,” she agreed. “I think I'd like to explore out there. See some stars. New planets. Maybe I'll run into you and your STG.”

“I'll track you down. Keep an eye on you.” Five assured her.

It stung a little to know Five had plans to leave their little family, but at the same tim, his thoughts were by far the most concrete of any of them. She had no idea how someone even got started exploring space. She'd need a ship, but she'd never had any money. The moment she stepped out of the Transmisphere she'd be a homeless drifter, reliant on others (probably Cale) to help her get by. She winced faintly. That wasn't fair. To put so much on poor Cale's shoulders. To expect him to freely give the help she knew they'd all need. Of course he'd give it. He'd do it in a heartbeat and without asking, but would it be too much of a burden? Song had never in her life been a burden. She was always the one propping others up. Seeing that her masters were happy and had everything they needed. She didn't like the idea of holding Cale down.

Song scolded herself inwardly, resolving to focus on the arena at hand just as she and Five slipped around another corner and found themselves face to face with a small cluster of humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! Five and Song are friends again! Was there ever any doubt? I love those two... of course I also love Song and Cale, and Brute and Rae and... ok so I am a little bit in love with all the friendships in this story. What are your favorites?
> 
> Sad news: I will be very busy from now on with my new job so I will be moving my posting schedule to every other week. I will try to keep strong with that schedule so I hope you won't give up on this story :) As much as I enjoy writing this, knowing you guys are reading is also a great motivator!
> 
> Check in in two weeks to see how Song and Five manage these humans!


	22. Dance in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This new biweekly update schedule is a drag, I know. Here's a quick recap of the previous chapter:  
> Everyone was forced one at a time into the arena and Song managed to reunite with Five. They finally reconciled and were just having a lovely stroll through a dark maze when they stumbled upon a group of humans from Black Team...

Chapter 22  
Dance in the Dark

“Hello, Yellow.”

Song and Five pulled back, almost to the edge of the bend they had come around. Song was struck with an almost irresistible urge to look behind her, feeling inexplicably surrounded. Her hands tightened around her polearm, ever in ready position. The last time they had encountered members of Black Team they had been greeted in the same way, but the man who had 'hallooed' them from atop the wall was now dead and his corpse incinerated to save space.

Now Song and Five were faced with three humans she didn't recognize, each kitted out with armor and decent looking blades. One even had a omnitool blade on her arm, glowing orange. Song suspected they were using it to for light more than anything.

Black Team seldom won games and Song wondered how they could afford so much gear, though she suspected she knew the answer. The humans didn't win matches, they won fights. They earned points by wracking up wound counts and maybe even kills. When you were as 'squishy' as they were it was likely easier to make quick strikes, earn as many points as possible, then back off to let the tougher aliens win the grand prize. If she was right it meant that she and Five were likely going to be injured and there was little they could do about it. At least the humans probably wouldn't kill them, with so few points on offer.

“You and your salarian out for a little stroll?” The second of the three, a smaller man with a snub nose asked, squinting in the dark as if he suspected more of Yellow Team might be hiding around the corner.

“You're just jealous you don't have a salarian,” Five said, surprising Song with his boldness. She could feel the steady thrum in the air behind her ear that was his biotics. She knew all three daggers would be drawn and ready to shoot out from behind her into the unsuspecting humans.

All three members of Black Team chuckled at Five's words. “Sure.” The first one said, tilting his chin up. He had pale skin and Song could make out a few freckles sapttered across his cheeks. She wondered if he was even old enough to shave. “Listen. No hard feelings, but we need to earn a few points here.” He gripped a short sword in each hand, raising them so the faint light from his friend's omnitool shone off them.

“Do we run?” Five hissed in Song's ear.

Song's jaw tightened. Maybe she and Five could outrun these three, but charging blindly through tunnels could result in them colliding with something much worse. Probably something krogan. “I think they only want to wound us. Worth more points.”

“Oh, well if they only want to wound us,” Five snarked, but she felt him tense behind her.

Song's mind rapidly ran through every polearm lesson Brute had drilled into her hoping her muscles would remember them as well. “I'm going to need room to back up as a fight,” she hissed to Five as the three members of Black Team stepped into a rough formation, almost lazily. It was clear they didn't fear the two members of Yellow. 'Let's see if we can change their minds,' Song thought, her blood rising, pounding in her ears.

Five shuffled into a better position just as all three humans charged in. The path was narrow enough that they slowed each other down, however fractionally. It was a tiny miscalculation on their part, but Song caught it. She lashed out with her Polearm, aiming for legs. All three humans wore chest armor, but only one had anything covering their shins. She was rewarded by yelps or surprise and pain, though the attackers did not stop their charge, only stumbled. Brute's voice rang in Song's head. 'Don't over-commit. You must strike and recover as quickly as possible.' She snapped her pole back into ready position with a speed that she wished Brute was there to appreciate. Then she jabbed three times, quickly, stepping back as she did to keep the space between herself and her attackers.

Five's daggers whipped past on either side of Song's head, so close she could feel the static charge of his biotics tickle her jaw. She tried not to flinch, but it was distracting. The freckle-faced young man who had taken point surged forward, using one of his swords to block Song' pole downwards. The pole's blade make a sickening scraping sound as it struck the stone floor.

Snapping in a breath Song jerked her arms upward, yanking the pole so it was vertical, blade still down and useless, the haft upright before her. Her attacker's second sword swung for her ribs and met the pole instead. Song twisted it to the side and knocked his sword away. He was a skilled fighter, for all his apparent youth, and he darted in with his first sword to gash her hip shallowly.

Hot rage flashed in Song's chest as she felt the sting of his blow and the warm trickle of blood already wending down her leg. He'd earned his points and she'd let him, 'dammit'. Song bared her teeth. It didn't matter if he'd gotten what he wanted. If he planned to back off, or try to injure Five as well. Song pulled in her elbows, then snapped the pole forward, still holding it vertically. The haft crashed directly into the young man's face, smashing his head back. Song saw the blood gush from his nose before she even heard his throaty response. “You bitch!”

Song didn't waste time. She knew Five was doing his best to slow the other two attackers. She could hear their shouts of annoyance and pain as his daggers slashed at them in the air, but she also knew the other two would soon be on her as well. She jerked her pole into ready position again and ripped the blade across the reeling man's side. This time the blood was darker and more urgent as it splashed from the fresh wound, just below where his torso armor protected. Her aim had been better than she'd hoped and the man fell back with a cry of genuine pain and... fear?

Even as victory coursed like warm light through Song's body she flinched at the sound of the man's pain. True pain, beyond anger or malice. Raw and more real than any words could articulate. For a moment she hesitated. He was a boy. He hadn't chosen this and neither had she. None of this was his fault.

Hesitation was a mistake. The other two moved past their comrade, who staggered back to sag against the wall, one sword clattering to the floor as he clasped a hand to his side, barely staunching the bleeding. Song could see medigel on his belt and cursed herself for being so soft. He could be healed and fighting in no time if his friends kept her busy enough.

The woman with the omniblade, whose face already bore a shallow cut from one of Five's daggers, darted in, faster than Song could react. The slice to her stomach was unexpectedly different from that of a regular weapon. It burned white hot and for a moment Song was staggered, blinking furiously as her mind refused to focus on anything but the pain. Instinct, or muscle memory, or maybe Brute's voice in her head, were all that kept Song alive as the blade darted in for a stab. Song turned her hips and brought her polearm around, sparks flying as the metal haft met with the omniblade.

One of Five's daggers sailed in and stuck firm in the woman's shoulder, at the joint of her armor. She hissed between gritted teeth, but didn't let up. Instead she shouldered into Song, knocking her back and diving past her after Five.

“Fuck!” Song snarled, trying to get her polearm around and back into position. Suddenly the graceful weapon was unwieldy and in its own way. She fumbled and the third attacker, the man with the snub nose, crashed into the gap his friend had made, slicing Song's shoulder with his own sword, earning extra points for his team no doubt. The cut was shallow and Song barely felt it as her stomach still seared with the wound from the omnibalde. She kicked the man back, her foot landing squarely against his chest.

“Stop it!”

Song didn't hear the voice at first. None of them did, but then it came again, stronger. “STOP IT!”

To her surprise everyone ceased fighting, even her. The desire to follow orders was seemingly still hardwired into her. The young leader of the little bunch, the one she had wounded, was standing straight having obviously administered his medigel. His face was firm, commanding. Song raised both eyebrows.

“That's it. We got our points.” He said.

His two pals drew back at once, as though he had snapped a leash. Song was doubly impressed. Just as no one would guess she was the leader of Yellow Team, she would never have suspected this youth of wielding any true authority. He turned to Song, pale eyes steady. “We've got our points. You got yours,” he raised his hand, his own blood still coating his palm. “There's no need to keep going.”

Song opened her mouth to speak, shut it again, then pursed her lips, uncertain. Was this offer of parlay something the human team did often, or was Yellow a special exception? “You alright, Five?” Song called over her shoulder, keeping her suspicious gaze on the three humans.

“Fine.” Her friend's response was tight with pain, but strong.

“Why?” Song asked the freckled boy.

“Because it's stupid to keep going. Someone's going to end up dead, and if they do you only earn the points for the kill, not the wounds.” He explained. He flicked a little splash of Song's blood from the sword he still held, then bent with a grunt to retrieve the fallen blade. “Look, I wouldn't try to explain this to a krogan, or one of those asari lunatics, but you... you seem like you have some sense.”

“Is it because she's human?” Five spat from behind Song's shoulder.

“Maybe,” the young man shrugged. His companions were still ready to fight, but both waited for a command. The woman even jerked Five's dagger from her shoulder and tossed it to the floor. He collected it easily with his biotics.

“So what? So we both go on our way? Try to win the game?” Song asked.

“Try to find our teams.” The man corrected her, dipping his head slightly. “Look, the longer we stand around talking the quicker the game makers are going to decide we have some kind of alliance and punish us for it. We're humans. We don't have much else except cleverness. Let's use it.”

Song felt Five's bristling annoyance as keenly as the thrum of his biotics, but he managed to hold his tongue. Song nodded, once. “Alright. Get going.” She gestured with her polearm.

“Later, Yellow,” the man said, grinning with a faint wildness Song decided she liked.

“Wait,” Five spoke up, stalling them. “Have you seen any other Yellows yet?”

The woman answered as the rest of her team jogged ahead. “No. A couple Reds that we avoided and a whole swarm of Blue. Probably using biotics to find one another somehow.” The woman shrugged, then hurried to keep up with her team.

Song sighed, letting herself sag against the wall. Five's slim hand wrapped around her upper arm. “You alright?” His big, warm eyes swept into her vision.

“Yeah,” she hissed between gritted teeth. “I think I might use a medigel though. I don't feel like waiting however long this damn match takes to end to get taken to the infirmary.”

“Right,” Five agreed.

As Song let herself slide to the floor, hands already fumbling with a medigel canister, she took in her friend. He had two slashes of green blood across his body. One on his thigh and another crossing his chest from shoulder to stomach. Neither seemed serious, but they looked painful. Song winced in sympathy. “You might want to use one too,” she suggested, holding up her medigel as an example.

Five inhaled bracingly, “I'm fine.”

“You're sure?”

His jaw was set. “Yes.”

“Because if you're trying to prove something-”

“Of course I am,” he snapped. “Everyone says you humans are squishy, but that goes double for salarians.”

“Five, I know you're tough, you don't have to prove anything to me.”

He gave her a wan smile before looking away, unable to handle looking at her injuries for too long. “I'm proving it to myself. And maybe to them too.” He gestured at the walls and it took Song a moment to realize he was referring to any cameras that might be in the area. Hidden like little, glassy eyes watching from the dark.

Song's skin prickled as she realized just how much the muu might see. “Five-”

“Song. Shut up.”

She snapped her mouth closed, feeling the corners pull with a faint smile as she watched her friend move stiffly around what remained of their makeshift battlefield. She cracked her medigel canister open and poured the cool ooze onto her palm before she slathered it generously over her injuries. The effect wasn't immediate, but came quickly enough, and soon the burning gash on her stomach was reduced to a red line that itched faintly.

Five's daggers were still scattered about and once he had spotted them in the darkness, glinting faintly with the light from his armband, he used his biotics to pick them up. As he hovered the last into place on his bandolier he hesitated, eyes narrowing. Song got her her feet, listening intently. “What is it?”

“Hmmm? Oh, nothing,” Five shook his head dismissively. “I just...” his mouth tightened. “I think I'll use that medigel after all.”

Song peered nervously both ways down the corridor. Was her friend seeing or hearing something she couldn't? Why would he keep it from her? He seemed calm enough as he cracked open his own medigel and smeared the blue goo over his wounds, hissing as he touched the deeper one on his thigh. “Weird about those humans, right?” Five asked as he waited for the gel to do its work. “Calling truce like that?”

“I suppose.” Song tilted her head to see down another path, still on edge.

“I mean, it makes sense. Fewer points for a kill and there's a chance we kill one of theirs too. No sense risking it if you don't have to. Smart. Not salarian smart, but-” He was baiting her, Song realized, trying to get her to banter. If he was feeling sassy it meant he probably hadn't heard anything and simply decided his wounds were too annoying to walk around with. Not worth it, no matter how tough he wanted to prove himself to be. Besides, if their next turn marched them directly into the path of a krogan he'd want to be able to react unhindered.

The pair moved on. They never found any krogan, however they were obliged to hide when a small team of asari swept by. Luckily they seemed intent on finding their way around the maze and didn't pay any attention to the alcove where Five and Song had secreted themselves. Blue Team had managed to find their drell and he was guiding them as best he could, though even he was looking a bit lost.

“No matter how much they want him to, he can't memorize tunnels he's never seen,” Five hissed to Song after the asari had moved on.

“Do you think we're anywhere near the prize?” Song asked, cocking her head.

“Shit I hope not. I don't even want to see it.” Five muttered, peeking around a corner before nodding to indicate it was safe. “I don't need to be tempted to touch the damn thing and claim some prize when we're supposed to be keeping our heads down.”

Song's shoulder muscles were beginning to tighten painfully from keeping her polearm in ready striking position all day. She rolled her neck, hearing it pop stiffly. “We've barely seen any sign of the other teams, let alone our own,” she muttered unhappily. Wherever Brute was she was beginning to doubt they'd find him any more. “Someone has to be closes to claiming the prize by now.”

“You'd think,” Five agreed in a whisper. They'd been keeping their voices hushed as ever. Song could only hope the cameras didn't pick up sounds well. “This might be the biggest arena we've seen yet.”

“Or at least it feels that way,” Five muttered. She could tell he too was growing tired. Though keeping a dagger out and hovering before him didn't use much of his energy these days, he was also constantly braced for a fight that could be waiting around every turn. “With all these tunnels and switchbacks the game makers could fit a lot into a little space. I wonder if they are using the hologram tech to artificially expand the layout.”

Song sighed, getting to her feet and tapping the butt of her polearm against the floor, taking in the slightly unnatural sound. She could hear the arena floor underneath. In her mind's eye she saw thick coils of wire twining under her feet. Nodes and repair panels. She thought of the salarians, working their own schemes, maybe even taking the arena itself apart. If only Trick had been willing to answer more questions she thought grumpily. Whatever Grey Team did, Yellow had no such abilities with their shoddy weapons and limited expertise.

“Come on, Song,” Five urged. “We have a team to find.”

It might have been hours, or merely twenty minutes, but finally the gong sounded to declare a winner. Song and Five had managed to track down one Easter egg for themselves, carefully collecting it in case it had been sabotaged by Grey. Now, as Song lay uncomfortably on her side, cuffs locked together, she watched the walls fall away like wet paint running towards a drain as the hologram faded. She writhed, trying to locate all the teams. She spotted a cluster of salarians and suspected what they must have been up to. They were infuriatingly close by without walls and passages to hide them. She also caught sight of Brute and Septimus. Both looked to be alive and unharmed. Song whispered a silent thanks to no one in particular. Perhaps to the arena itself, as vile as it was.

She couldn't see Cale or Rae, but, oddly, she wasn't worried about those two. Perhaps she should have been, she thought as Nara and Ric wandered over, strolling casually where other guards marched towards their charges. Ric made eye contact with Song and gave her a thumbs up. She rewarded him with a thin smile before letting her face fall back into its emotionless mask. She'd done as he said after all. 'Keep your head down. Don't win.'

“So, who got the prize?” Song asked as their leg cuffs were released and she got to her feet. She picked up her polearm where it had fallen beside her.

“As far as I know it was the asari. Well, a few of the asari,” Nara answered. “I was only half watching. Matches like this are boring.”

“She likes death matches,” Ric rolled his eyes as he began to lead the two slaves towards where Brute and Septimus were laying.

“The asari will be happy to have that win,” Five mused. “It might settle them down for a while. I think they were getting frustrated.”

“That bunch is never happy.” Nara shook her head. The tall woman was in a talkative mood today, Song noted. “And the whole team doesn't get the prize. Just the ones who made it to the center of the maze. That'll make more trouble than it is probably worth, but the audience will eat up all the drama.”

Song glanced sidelong at a pack of asari being led from the arena. They looked surly and were hassling their guards. Electricity flashed and Song flinched involuntarily, remembering the pain of the baton's sting. She guessed that group must be the ones who did not find their way to victory.

“Honestly,” Ric grumbled as he stopped before Brute and Septimus, clicking the button on his remote that would free their legs, “I think the game makers are crazy for doing this. They're seeding discontent inside of teams. Powerful ones like Blue. With all that's been going on you'd think they'd be more careful.”

“I think it makes sense,” Nara countered as she reached out and helped Brute get to his feet. The motion was a natural one, as though she performed it often. Song wondered how close Nara and the aging krogan had become over her years working with Red. “The game makers have noticed that there's too much animosity going around. They want teams to fight, but not to get so riled up they start riots in the dining hall. What better way to slow that roll than to make sure the teams are less coherent within themselves? I'll bet their only disappointment is that they didn't manage to do it to those damn turians.”

Song looked up at Septimus as he got to his feet. He seemed uninjured, but he didn't meet her gaze. She tilted her head, aching to ask what was wrong, but she kept her mouth shut and her expression neutral.

“Unit before blood,” Brute rumbled and Nara chuckled.

“Yeah,” the guard agreed, planting Brute's hand on her shoulder as the group moved on to pick up Rae and Cale. “The turians will be a hard nut to crack, though they are still reeling from the loss of their archer so I think the damage was done.” She cut a look at Septimus who was staring pointedly at the floor.

Rae was in a mood. She glared and huffed as her legs were freed. She fixed Song with a laser beam glare. “You and I are going to have words,” she hissed.

Song blinked confusedly at the little drell. What now? She turned her attention to Cale, who hadn't risen as quickly. Ric was squatting in front of him, hand on Cale's shoulder. He was speaking low and encouragingly. Instantly Song's concern peaked. Was he hurt? How badly? Did she dare join Ric at her friend's side, or was she better served to stand back? The warrior inside her flashed into life as she readied to shoo the guard away with the same authority that had inexplicably worked on a game maker the week before.

Song saw no blood as Cale got shakily to his feet, but his face was drained of color and his eyes, when they flicked to meet hers, were haunted. Everything in her screamed to charge in and take over. Protect him from... whatever was troubling him. Instead she simply met his eyes with as firm and leaderly a look as she could muster on short notice. He nodded fractionally at her and she knew he wasn't dying at the very least.

“Let's go. We're slowing up the party,” Nara griped, as most of the other teams retreated through the doors.

Song watched the few remaining members of the various teams limp from the massive room. There seemed to have been a skirmish involving a few salarians and two humans. At least one salarian left on a stretcher, but there were not many wounded this time. Song hoped that the game makers found this to be exactly the type of viewing experience they had in mind so they would do something else next time. As much as she hated the more deadly games, she preferred it when she could keep the team together.

As they handed in their gear to a waiting slave Song raised her head when Five's bandolier of daggers was taken. “Weren't there three daggers?” The slaved asked.

“There are supposed to be,” Five agreed, frowning as he looked the belt over. Song peered around Brute. One of Five's weapons was indeed missing in action.

The slave passed the belt to another and looked expectantly at Nara, who was leaning against a wall, obviously daydreaming and a million miles away. The guard snapped to, grouching, “oh sure. Need a pat-down, ask for me. Because I just love feeling up aliens.” She grabbed Five roughly and put him against the wall, arms out, long legs apart, then patted him down.

“Where's he supposed to be hiding the dagger?” Rae demanded, her eyes glinting fiercely. Song decided it was a good thing that they had taken the little drell's sword already.

“There are places,” The weapon gathering slave said, glowering at Five as though he were a criminal.

“He hasn't got it,” Nara reported, standing back.

“Cavity search?” The slave asked.

“Sweetie,” Nara rested a baleful gaze on the shorter woman in white. “This is Yellow Team. We haven't finished our sweep of the arena. It's probably sitting in some corner. He's fine.”

With that Song and her crew were hustled on towards dinner. Song wasn't pleased that they seemed to have lost one of the best weapons they had, but at least poor Five avoided a cavity search. His face was impassive as he too put on his mask of submission, trudging to the dining hall with his team.

Yellow was quiet as they were fed, obviously waiting to recount the events of their day until they returned to the barracks. Cale looked healthier by the minute, color returning to his cheeks, though Song noticed that his shirt was drenched with sweat. Septimus, on the other hand, remained even quieter than usual and seldom met Song's eyes. Each time he avoided her gaze it felt like one of his arrows was jabbing her in the heart. She longed to grasp his hand and ask what was wrong, but she kept herself under control. She'd been having too many lapses in control as it was these days.

Rae's bad mood didn't change either. The drell glowered at Song as though the woman had done her some horrible slight. Song couldn't wait to find out what had the little drell so upset this time.

~~~~~

During her shower Song listened as Dawn recounted a new crush she had on a member of the human team. As Song lathered the thick, chalky soap over her body, feeling the gentle ridge of the scar forming where she'd been slashed in the stomach. Dawn waggled her eyebrows meaningfully. “I heard rumors that you and a certain turian are holding hands in the dining hall these days.”

“Oh?” Song lifted her brow and allowed a little smirk onto her lips. Let the conversation tonight be frivolous. Some other day she might have more pointed questions for the girl.

“I talk to Ric sometimes.” Dawn shrugged, her expression mischievous. “He's usually pretty boring, but the other day he told me that he sees you and Long Shanks making mushy faces at each other all the time.”

It took Song a moment to remember that 'Long Shanks' had been Septimus' nickname in Green.

“What's it like being with an alien?” Dawn shuddered. “All scaly and pointy.”

“I like it.” Song stepped from the shower, already missing the water's gentle caress. It was the closest she got to standing in rain, something she never thought she would miss so dearly. The way the storms back home took all the power from the muu and proved that there would always be something mightier than any of them. Rain fell on everyone equally. She let another smirk free. “Maybe I'm a little bit pointy too.”

Dawn's expression grew deeply conspiratorial. “Maybe you are. I heard how you stood up to that game maker. You didn't even die.”

“Seems that way,” Song allowed herself a chuckle as she toweled off, then took her fresh clothes, relishing the feel of the clean fabric against her skin.

“I wish I was like you,” Dawn said, smiling shyly.

'No. You really don't' Song thought, but she kept her mouth shut and finished dressing.

~~~~~

Back in the barracks Song found she was the first to return, but she was shortly joined by Rae who marched down the room at full speed, obviously working herself up for a good rant. Song turned towards her, hands on hips, braced.

“So!” Rae snapped, coming to a stop before Song, not caring one bit that she was considerably shorter than Yellow Team's leader. “You might have warned me!”

“What? Warned you?”

“That your pal Cale was terrified of tight spaces. I found him and spent the rest of the game trying to make sure he didn't piss himself or whimper so loud that Red Team would find us. I would have appreciated a little warning.”

“I-” Song fumbled, looking towards the shower hall door. Cale had not yet appeared. “I didn't know.”

“The fuck you didn't,” Rae huffed, folding her arms. “You and Cale are like brother and sister. You must have known.”

“No,” Song answered earnestly, desperately searching her memory for a time when Cale had spoken of it, or given her some hint.

“Well, even if you didn't, I still don't appreciate it.” Rae wasn't about to let her tirade go to waste. She jutted out her chin. “THEN, while I was trying to deal with Cale, this other drell-- from the krogan team I think- showed up. He was a real jackass.” She rolled her eyes expressively.

“Oh yes?” Song relaxed and plopped down on the nearest bed. Five's.

“Yeah,” Rae deflated, her shoulders sagging, and sat down as well, surprising Song when she landed right beside her instead of picking a different bed. “He told me that I was stupid to stay with Yellow Team. That I was too young to know better and if I switched to his team he could mentor me.” The way she said 'mentor' made Song certain the word meant something else in this context. Rae shuddered with revulsion.

“What did you do?”

“I drew my sword and told him to piss off,” Rae answered. There was a fearsome twist to her full lips that made Song smile.

“Did he fight you?”

“Pfft. No. He's from the krogan team. He's used to them doing all his fighting for him. He had a blade, but didn't know how to use it. I could tell. He tried to scare me and I sliced his arm. He left after that, but he called me a whole bunch of really nasty names, some of them in krogan.”

“I'm sorry, Rae,” Song said earnestly. She felt oddly protective in that moment. She hadn't felt that way since Asla. This was a new sensation when it came to Rae, who seemed too independent and angry to be protected. Could it be she still needed the assurance of an older woman? Song wondered if she should put her arm around the little drell's narrow shoulders.

“It's fine,” Rae shrugged, but some of the fire had gone from her eyes. “It's lucky Cale wasn't up for a fight though, because then that fucker would have been in trouble.”

“You sent him packing just fine on your own,” Song reassured her. “If he ever hassles you again, you know you can kick his ass, and your team will back you up.”

To Song's immense surprise Rae leaned into her shoulder, resting her head against Song almost the way Asla had used to do. Before Song could figure out how to react the door at the end of the room snapped open and Cale entered, leading Brute. Rae leaped away from Song as though she was on fire and retreated to her own bed, beginning her stretches.

Song shook her head and got to her feet, meeting Brute and Cale half way. “Alright?” she asked them both as she took Brute's hand to her own shoulder.

“Yeah,” Cale's eyes flicked down for a moment, but he seemed to have mostly recovered. At least physically.

“I'm good,” Brute assured her, “but I think I might have broken your boyfriend.”

“What?” Song looked up into the krogan's wide face.

Brute lowered his voice as she led him towards the living end of the room. “He and I were alone for a long time in that arena and we... got to talking. I think he was trying to keep my mind busy. Good kid, you've got there. Anyway, the subject of the previous Yellow Team came up and uh... I was there when they were all killed.”

“Oh god,” Song groaned.

“I don't remember it very well. All the battles blend together after a while,” Brute admitted as Song deposited him on his bed. He sat stiffly, rubbing his knee as though it ached. Song suspected that even krogan got sore with age. She sat in her customary spot across from him on her bed, touching his foot with hers so he could keep track of her more easily. He clasped his hands in his lap. “I er... I thought maybe it would do the kid some good if I apologized for my hand in... in their deaths. I think I made it worse.”

Song rubbed the back of her neck worriedly. Now she knew why Spetimus looked so spooked since the arena. “Shit,” she sighed.

“Yeah. Look, Song, I'm sorry about that. I was trying to help him out, I promise you.” Brute said. His deep voice was earnest, as gentle as a krogan's could be. “After we talked he stayed with me. The way he reacted I half expected him to turn on me.”

“Is that why you did it?” Song's head snapped up.

“No.” Brute reached for her and she moved her knee so his hand would land on it. “I promise you. That slip of a turian doesn't have enough arrows to kill me anyway.” He grinned then and Song felt a tickle of mirth flutter briefly in her chest before worry took over once again. For all the day's oddities, Brute wasn't feeling the darkness as heavily. She wished there could be more days like that.

“Clan before blood.” Song sighed. “Even if he wanted to kill you, he never would because you're on his team now.”

“Fucking turians.” Brute showed his teeth. “Anyway, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him. You go. Put him back together.” This time his grin was roguish and Song playfully swatted his hand off her knee.

“Don't be gross.”

“That's up to you and your boy.” He was still grinning.

Song rolled her eyes, though she knew it was lost on her companion. The doors to the shower hall slid open again as Septimus and Five were let in. Song only had eyes for Septimus, though his head was still lowered, his steps dragging. He went immediately to his bed and sat with his back to the others. Song gritted her teeth. This was what happened when the game makers messed with their team dynamic. It left a terrified Cale alone with ill equipped Rae and Septimus to face someone who may very well have killed his friends right before his eyes. Now she was left to pick up the pieces. She reached out and patted Brute's shoulder to indicate she was leaving. “Later I'll tell you about my time in the arena. Five and I got into a little scrap with some humans and we kicked ass.”

“Never any doubt.” Brute's laugh rattled victoriously through the long room as Song moved on to see to her team

 

*******

Time for some more art!

 

Song <3 How we love her! At least I do.

 

Who loves Song and Septimus? I sure do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how's this last week been treating you guys? Mine's been pretty busy, but I have gotten some decent writing in. If I get a bit ahead with 'The Game' I might be able to upload weekly again as we get closer to the end... as much as I don't want it to end. I know, not ending it would mean leaving our characters in hell longer. I'm a terrible person. Hahaha
> 
> Remember that comments make an author's world go around, so feel free to chime in with any thoughts! Hell, even stuff you didn't like. ;)


	23. Walkabout

Chapter 23  
Walkabout

Song decided to check on Cale first. Her friend was already beginning his stretches and looked up calmly as ever when she approached. It was as though the expression of abject panic he'd worn in the arena had ever been. Still, he must have known what she'd come to talk about because he watched her sheepishly through pale lashes. “Hey, Song,” he said, preempting her as she sat down on his bed. “Sorry I freaked Rae out.” He leaned back, speaking loudly, “Sorry I freaked you out, Rae.”

Rae, who was doing her stretches on the floor beside her bed, popped her head into view. “Yeah yeah.”

Cale spoke loudly enough so the others could hear. “I'm sorry everyone if I turn out to be a liability in some game later. I've always been freaked out by tight spaces like caves.”

“What about ships? Those can get pretty small and cramped,” Rae's head appeared again and she clamored onto her bed, arranging herself in the lotus position, bare feet resting on her thighs.

“Ships are fine,” Cale shrugged. “Maybe it's because I know that outside the ship is space, all vast and beautiful. In a cave... well, all you have is rock and crushing earth to come crashing in on you. Hell, I didn't even know it was a problem until Luke dragged me along to one of his digs and I freaked the fuck out. I can' control it...” He looked down. “I never expected it to be something that came up in the arena. I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it, kid.” It was Brute who spoke, gazing vaguely across in Cale's direction. “We've all got shit.”

“We've all got shit. Wise words to live by,” Five jabbed a finger dramatically into the air. He was not doing his stretches. Song wondered if he was still a bit sore from his wounds in the arena. Hers seemed completely healed and even though the pink line remained across her belly, it had stopped stinging. The salarian sat with his back to them, though didn't seem to be sulking or upset, merely alone with his thoughts. Song decided she'd leave him to it.

“Don't worry, Cale. You were all there for me when we had that water arena.” Song lifted her head and announced to the room; “I can't swim and deep water scares the fuck out of me.”

Five chimed in, though he did not turn. “I can't stand the sight of blood and gore. Can hardly look at it. If you get badly hurt I'm useless.”

“I can't see.” Everyone stopped to laugh as Brute grinned around the room. When they quieted he went on. “Before that I wasn't too fond of heights. Now, as long as I don't know where I am, I'm fine.” His jerking, punctuated laugh boomed over all of theirs.

“I don't like heights either,” Rae raised her hand. “Not so much as I'd stop moving or anything, but I would like to keep away from any ledges please.”

Everyone looked to Septimus, who had his back to them and didn't join the laughter or the conversation. “I've got him.” Song stood, patting Cale's shoulder as she slipped past him and headed for the turian.

“Smooch and make it better!” Rae called, pouting out her full lips in exaggerated kissing.

'If he does break it off with me it'll be because he can't stand the constant ribbing from you,' Song thought darkly as she stopped behind the angular figure on his bed, tilting her head to see Septimus' face. His head was bowed, his eyes closed and his hands clasped before him. Praying? Song had seen prayer before. Some of the others slaves had still followed their religions, though it seemed to Song that they might feel abandoned by their gods rather than watched over. Still, she knew better than to interrupt so she stood back, waiting silently.

After a few moments Septimus opened one eye and glanced at her. She flinched and whispered, “sorry. Should I... should I move further away?”

“You're fine.” Septimus sighed and leaned back, tilting his head up to look at the high ceiling. “It's not working anyway.”

“Not working?” Song moved in to sit beside him, their backs to the others. It felt as if they sat in their own private world again, even though, if she listened, she could hear Brute breathing and moving behind them.

“I was trying to appeal to the Spirits of Yellow Team.” Septimus said, his small nostrils flaring as he took in another heavy breath.

“And uhm... what are those?”

“When I was a kid my family believed in the Spirits. Lots of turians do. They're not... they're not spirits in the way humans use the word. Not like ghosts or actual entities. It's more... more of a feeling of a place. A home can have Spirits, or a group of people. If you can appeal to the Spirits they can help you. At least that's what my mother said. I don't think I've ever gotten it to work. A lot of people in Green believed it too. Empress says Green has strong Spirits.”

“We have Spirits too?”

“Yes. And so does old Yellow Team. I would have settled for either. I just... I just wanted to feel them around me. It's supposed to be reassuring.” He looked down now, studying his hands still clasped in his lap.

“I'm sorry... about today, Septimus. Brute told me he might have said something upsetting.”

Septimus shrugged. “He didn't mean to. He thought it would help. He apologized.”

“But you're not okay?”

Septimus turned to her, eyes flashing, twin points of perfect green against the black and grey of his face. His voice was a low rumble, barely audible. “You don't know what it's like, Song. You can't know. To be on a team with one of the people who slaughtered your friends. In front of you.”

“Brute did?” Song slid her hand artfully between Spetimus'.

The turian growled, an almost animal sound. “Not him specifically. I don't remember which krogan did what. It was chaotic. I was farther away that I should have been. We tried to flee and I... well I had my arrows so I was away from the others, sniping. Trying to save them. I think.... I think Brute was starting to lose his sight by then, so I don't know if he had a hand in the slaughter, but I know he would have commanded it.” Septimus flicked a glance over his shoulder. “It was a death match. It was what we were all supposed to to. I killed people in that fight too. Just... not enough.”

Even though Song had seen Septimus wound and likely kill people with her own eyes, it still felt strange to think of. Outside of this place she suspected he would have live his life without ever hurting so much as an insect. Perhaps he might even have been a medic or some other life saving profession. Becoming a killer had been forced into him and the piece didn't fit. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“You want to know the worst part?” He sniffled. A tear escaped his small eye and slid down his muzzle. “I actually like Brute. The person who probably ordered the death of all my friends. I like him.”

“Brute didn't kill your friends. Not really,” Song said, hoping she was right. Hoping the blind krogan would never have chosen such an action, given his freedom. “It was The Game. The muu. This place.” She gestured with her free hand around the cavernous room.

“I know... and it doesn't matter.” Septimus shrugged. He raised Song's hand, clasped between his, to his mouth and attempted to kiss her knuckles. It was more of a nibble, but Song appreciated the gesture. “Do want to know what I'm afraid of? What makes me go as white and shaky as Cale was today?”

“Alright,” Song tilted her head again, looking up into his shining eyes, still misty with unshed tears.

“It's the knowing. Knowing that I'll lose all this. Lose you; all of Yellow Team again. Nothing is permanent. Nothing sticks. Nothing stays. I wasn't happy on Green Team, but I had friends there I can never talk to and now, here, at any time I might see all of you ripped away from me too. I didn't deserve to survive the first time... I don't know if I can handle surviving again.”

Song's chest stabbed with a fresh arrow in her heart. Here she'd been thinking Septimus would get too attached. That he didn't understand how she wouldn't always be there and that their relationship would inevitably end, most likely in violent ways. He'd known all along and just wanted to hold her while he could. “We're going to get out of here,” she said, between clenched teeth. “It was decided. It's real. We're leaving and you're coming with us and we're all going away from here.”

Where once Song's speech had sounded victorious, certain, now it rang hollow. As empty as her chest. She wanted to believe her own words, but they bit as they fell from her lips. Escape. The freedom she had promised. They all silently knew that impossible freedom was just for them. They weren't going to try to help Green escape, or any of Brute's old friends in Red. Their freedom was selfish and there was very little they could do about it but hope that others would be able to follow their example. Maybe, once they got away, they could send help back to the transmisphere? If the 'counsel' Rae and Cale had mentioned knew what was going on out here would they come to free their people? Somehow Song doubted it, though she wasn't certain why. Perhaps it was because people in authority never had her best interests in mind. People in authority used people like herself and her friends and that was all there was to it.

Septimus leaned down, resting his head into her chest, somehow managing to nuzzle without stabbing her with his fringe.

She faltered, enjoying the feeling of his breath against her collarbone even as the cool fingers of guilt clawed at her. “Do you hate it with us? Do you wish you could go back to Green?”

“No...Not all the time. It springs up on me and I miss everyone so much it's painful. Sometimes it's... too big for me to handle... so I sought the Spirits to see if I could find that family again.”

Song held him in silence for a long moment, knowing that there was probably nothing she could say to make this moment better, just as it so often was with Brute. She felt something caress her shoulders, like a stray beam of sunlight between clouds. It gently warmed her as she put her arms around Septimus as best she could. He settled his head in her lap, curling into the fetal position on his bed. She ran her hand along his fringe as one might stroke a lover's hair. The warm feeling spread and she wondered if, perhaps, they had found the Spirits after all.

~~~~~

She was in the arena, except it wasn't the arena. It was her old home, but somehow she knew, she knew that everything was holographic and if she touched a wall her hand might go through, or perhaps smear it like paint. She kept turning around and around in place, looking for something she wasn't certain what. Something that was missing. She could feel the absence of it in her chest, like someone had reached in and scooped it out of her.

The Asla appeared. Not as a child, but as the young woman Song had left behind when she'd been sold. The muu had gentle eyes and a pretty, if fleeting smile. Song had raised this girl. Had taught her. She might have been spoiled and willful much of the time, but there was a sweet side to her, a fiery love for life and capacity for great joy. Now, Asla looked confused. The expression was deeply subtle, but Song could read it. “What's wrong?” Song asked.

“What are you doing, Song?” Asla 's voice was kind and melodious.

“What am I doing?”

“You left us and you became... you became someone else. I don't even know you any more. I don't understand you any more.”

“I... I don't understand me any more.” Suddenly Song was holding her polearm. Asla took in the weapon with the barest hint of sorrow on her face. She was still not as good at keeping her expression neutral as the adults. As Song.

“You used to be so gentle. You'd never fight. Never disobey,” Asla said. “You didn't have a defiant bone in you. You were so good. The best!”

Song's jaw tightened. “I was defiant, you just never knew. Never saw. I didn't even show that side to myself, but it was there. It was always there.” She had no idea why she was saying these things to Asla. If she kept talking she knew the Game would start and she'd be fighting for her life.

“You don't have to fight.” Asla gestured towards the slave barracks. The others from home were there, clustered together, hands clasped before them, heads angled down and faces all wearing the same, expressionless mask that Song had so mastered. “You can be good. You can keep your head down and do as your told. Be you again.”

Song locked her gaze with Bright Eyes, a sad longing eating away at what was left of her heart. “I was never good. I was never who you thought I was. THIS is who I am now!” She turned and whipped her polearm around, twisting the blade expertly, tearing it across Asla's unprotected body. There was no blood, only an oily mist that spread from the deep, ugly gash she had sliced from the girl's cheek all the way down to where her torso met the more spider-like part of her body. Asla didn't move. Barely blinked.

Song stood, baffled and panting, blade of her polearm hissing and crackling with dark smoke. Without warning Asla lunged forward, wrapping her hands around Song's neck, driving them both backwards. Song thrashed as Asla brought her freshly scarred face inches from Song's. “SONG! SONG! SONG!” she chanted.

“Song!”

Song struck out wildly but someone caught her hand. Someone was shaking her by her shoulders. Her eyes snapped open and adjusted quickly to the dimly lit room. Rae was crouched on her bed, shaking Song awake, dark eyes large and frightened. “What-?” Song managed. Instinctively she reached for Brute, managing to swat at his arm. She heard him grunt as he came awake. “What's going on, Rae?”

“It's- it's Five! I can't find him! He's gone!”

Song sat bolt upright as though the drell had put a stun baton directly against her spine. “What?!”

“At first I though he was just invisible. He practices that you know? When he thinks everyone is asleep. Anyway, I waited, but he never reappeared. I check his bed, checked all over. He's gone!”

Song's feet hit the floor before she even realized she'd sat up. She ignored the cold that crept up her legs as she darted across to Five's bed. His blankets were tossed back as though he had been sleeping, only to rise some time in the night. She felt the sheets, but they were as cool as the rest of the room.

“Song?” Brute's voice was tight with uncharacteristic concern. “What's going on?” He was sitting up, blinking as though this time, somehow, his eyes might adjust.

“The hell? Where's Five?” Cale had woken and rolled out of bed to land beside Song and Rae. Seconds later Septimus was up and they were one collective group of confusion and worry.

“Five!” Song tried, standing and scanning the room as though perhaps he was just hiding in a shadowy corner. “This isn't funny! Come out, please.”

“Why the hell would he hide?” Cale asked, tossing Five's blankets back as though some clue might be tucked at the foot of the salarian's bed.

“To mess with us? I don't know.” Song strode up and down the room, checking between each bed.

Rae went over to Brute to explain the situation. This done she asked, “have the guards ever taken anyone in the middle of the night before?”

“No.” The krogan shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. “And if they ever did you can bet it wouldn't be quiet and secret.”

Song's heart was leaping in her chest, perhaps intending to jump out and go after Five itself. She paced the room again, certain she'd see him tucked up beside some bed, grinning like an idiot and laughing at all their worry. Except he wasn't.

“If he's been working on his invisibility, could he have collapsed from exhaustion and remained invisible?” Cale asked. He too was on his feet and following in Song's wake, rechecking everything she'd already rechecked.

“I assume this has never happened before?” Septimus asked Rae, watching with concern, but obviously not wanting to get in the way.

“Not that I know of. Song, Five and Cale were the first three. I didn't join until later.”

“No, this has never happened before.” Cale began to toss the room, flipping beds and waving his arms around in open spaces, obviously hoping to bump into an invisible Five.

“Maybe the game makers took him,” Song stood up from crouching to check under a bed for the third time. “If he's not here, that's all I can think of.”

“Maybe he found a way out,” Rae said. Her words made everyone stop and look at her. “Like the other salalrians. Maybe he found a way to trick the door and he left.”

“Without at least waking us?” Song asked, hands on her hips now. Cale sent another bed crashing. “Shhhh!” She hissed. “Or the cuffs will activate. Remember?”

“Right,” Cale gingerly plunked the next bed onto its side. “If we ever find Five we should have him deactivate all our cuffs.”

“I probably could do it,” Rae pointed out, spinning one of her own cuffs around her wrist, nervously.

Song was running out of ideas, but whatever had happened to her friend, she knew it wasn't good. Five would never just leave them, would he? If he'd found way to escape he'd take them with, or at least say goodbye... wouldn't he? Or maybe it was the game makers. Maybe he was in some darkly lit room being tortured. She remembered what Trick had said would happen if he were caught. Not just killed. Killed slowly, painfully. Had Five done something to piss of the people who ran this death game without any of them realizing it?

An hour of panic inched along as the friends tried to reason out what might have happened to Five and keep searching for him in turns. Their world was so small, Song thought as she kicked a pile of blankets. How could they possibly lose a whole person in it? It was her fault. As leader, she should have seen, should have known. Maybe if she never slept again. Just sat up watching her people all night so nothing else could happen to them. What if Cale disappeared next? The Rae or Brute? What if, before she knew it, she was alone in this cavernous room. No friends, no team, no explanations? She sank to the floor with a groan, hugging her biceps.

“Hey, hey, come on.” Septimus crossed to her at once and knelt in front of her. “It's alright. We'll... we'll figure this out.”

“How?” She snapped, harsher than she meant to.

“I don't know yet.” Septimus' mandibles flared and his eyes flashed icily. Song felt certain that if a game maker wandered in the door just then, they'd be set upon by an enraged turian and she would have given anything to see that.

“Hello? Can someone help me?” A breathy but familiar voice made everyone jump to their feet. It was coming from the far end of the room.

“Is that? Is Five in the shower hall?” Rae darted to the door faster even than Song and Cale.

“Is it him?” Brute called. He was standing beside his bed, but with the room in such disarray he didn't dare try to move around.

“Son of a bitch!” Cale gasped, reaching the door. Familiar, slender fingers were reaching through a narrow gap. The door hadn't closed all the way and now Five, somehow on the other side, was struggling to pull it open. Cale grasped the door and hauled it open with surprising ease. Five stepped in, gasping for breath and clutching a stitch in his side, but very much alive.

“Be careful when you shut it. There's a dagger in the gap and I want it to stay there.” Five said in a winded voice.

Song peered around the salarian to see that, indeed, one of his little daggers from the arena was wedged into the space where the door would nestle into the wall. As Cale eased the door shut it remained propped just enough for someone to get their fingers around it to pull it open.

Five turned, taking in the mess, “What... what the hell did you do in here?” He swayed, reaching absently towards the wall to catch himself.

Song caught him instead, grabbing his arms as he pitched sideways. “Whoa! I got you, Five. What the hell happened?”

Five was still struggling to get a good breath as his eyes suddenly looked distant, unseeing. He fell the rest of the way to the floor in a dead faint, Song managing to catch his head before it hit. Everyone stood, staring at the limp salarian in Song's arms for a long, utterly baffled moment.

“Let's get him on a bed,” Cale said, snapping them out of their trance.

“Right. Help me.” Song propped Five's lolling head against her shoulder and tucking her arms under his. Septimus hurriedly took the salarian's legs and together they hauled their ungainly friend to his bed, which Cale hurried to set upright.

“I take it he's unconscious?” Brute asked, still standing uneasily beside his own bed.

“He is,” Song affirmed as she gingerly arranged her lanky friend, settling his pillow and pulling a blanket over him. Her fingers went to his neck to be certain. “Pulse is... strong. Okay. He's just out. Shit.”

“So the little fucker opened the damn door and went for a stroll?” Brute sounded impressed.

“Seems that way,” Cale agreed, folding his arms and looking down at Five as though he wasn't certain if he was angry or not. Song agreed. She simultaneously wanted to hug Five and punch him. Maybe some combination thereof was in order.

Five's rasping breathing finally settled as the friends sat around him, protective, though there was little to protect him from. Even Brute managed to pick his way over and now kept his leg against Five's bed like a mooring post to keep track of where he was. He asked for regular status reports on pulse, breathing, the salarian's look. Cale cocked an eyebrow at the krogan. “You much of an expert on salarian health?”

“I've been around a while. You pick things up.”

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Five's eyes finally fluttered open and he inhaled sharply through his nose. For a moment he didn't seem to know where he was, blinking and reaching for nothing with one hand. Song caught the hand and leaned in so Five could see her face more directly. “Five? Five, you're okay. You're back home. Everyone's here. We've got you.”

The salarian blinked a few more times, then finally met Song's eyes with recognition. “Water?” he asked, so quietly she almost didn't hear.

“Water.” Song instructed the group as a whole.

Cale reacted first. They'd been given flimsy paper cups in their little washroom. Nothing that could be used as a tool. Cale filled two and hurried them back to the salarian, where Song helped him drink. When he had finished both cups Five blinked up at his team. He was looking healthier so Song decided the time had come for some answers. “Alright, Five. Time for a talk. What the fuck was that? You disappear in the middle of the night to do what? Explore? And you didn't think telling any of us would be important?”

Five shrugged weakly. “I w... I wanted to surprise you.”

“We're surprised,” Cale said flatly, muscular arms folded.

“How the hell-?” Song glanced back towards the door. “A dagger? They didn't notice you taking it out of the arena?”

Five's slim lips twisted in a cocky grin that would be more natural on Cale's features. “I floated it out. Invisible.”

“You... son of a bitch,” Cale ran a hand over his stubbly head, actually staggering back a pace. “I didn't know you could hover things and make them invisible at the same time.”

“It's not easy, but I've been practicing.” Five was still grinning. “I kept it up all through my shower, and when they let us back into the room, I made sure I went last and I jammed the dagger in the door. The shower slaves don't pay attention and they didn't notice the tiny gap.”

“Son of a BITCH!” Now Cale was truly impressed. He leaned in and clasped Five's narrow shoulder, shaking it. “You... I don't even know what to do with you.”

“He's got a quad, this one.” Brute chuckled, reaching down an fumbling until he found Five's ankle and gave it a squeeze.

Song wasn't as forgiving. “So you decided you'd surprise us by leaving the room in the middle of the night. Alone?”

Five met her gaze levelly. “Alright.... surprise wasn't my only motivator. I knew that if I told you I was going, you'd insist on someone come with. It's much easier for me to keep myself invisible than two people, especially while moving. I'm not even sure I can do that with two people.”

Song bit back on her response that it wouldn't have mattered, she'd have gone anyway, but she knew he was right. If they encountered guards she would've been a deadly liability. “You still should have told us. We thought the game makers had come and taken you for torture or something.”

“Sorry,” Five said, and he sounded it. “It wasn't like I could leave a note.”

“How about you start at the beginning?” Brute's rumbling voice had a steadying effect on the team. Cale's infectious energy was already making Song's skin tingle and she was glad to have someone able to keep his head.

Five took a bracing breath, trying to prop himself into a more upright position and managed with help from Song. He gave her a thin smile. “I think I got the idea in the arena. I was wracking my brain trying to think of ways I could help. Could get this ball rolling on our escape plans. Song and I had just talked about my abilities and I admitted that I had been practicing my invisibility.”

“Hah!” Cale snapped his fingers, still up and pacing like a caged animal. “I knew you were up to something. Why didn't you tell us when you started your practice?”

Five shrugged lightly. “I think it was because I wasn't happy to be doing it, and if I failed, or decided I couldn't keep going, I didn't want to let you all down. Better to keep it to myself until I was ready.”

“You kept a lot to yourself,” Rae folded her arms.

Song was inclined to agree with the drell. It was one thing Five deciding he wanted to practice in secret, something else entirely to go for a walk down guard infested halls without telling anyone. Still, she kept her mouth shut, her face schooled into a calm expression. She'd berate her friend some more later, when he had his strength back.

“So?” Cale stopped his pacing long enough to raise both eyebrows in Five's direction. “What's out there? What did you find?”

A smile flickered weakly on Five's thin lips. In that moment he looked almost as cocky as the salarians from Grey Team. If he didn't simultaneously look so pathetic, sprawled out on his bed, Song might have been tempted to swat his shoulder. Five cleared his throat.“We were right about the shower hall connecting to something. Every barracks has a hall like ours and they're arranged in a circle like the spokes on a wheel. In the center of the wheel there's a couple supply rooms-”

“What kind of supplies?” asked Cale. Song had to grab his wrist and stop him before his pacing sent too much wild energy flying unchecked around the room. Rae was already sitting cross-legged on her bed and bouncing.

“Cleaning supplies mostly,” Five answered. “No weapons. Extra soap, mops, that sort of thing. I also found the barracks where at least some of the station slaves sleep. I kept invisible, but I don't think they would have noticed me anyway. The few that were awake were playing cards and ignoring the world. There weren't any guards. The muu clearly have no fear of arena slaves getting back there.”

“How does that help us?” Septimus asked, not unkindly. His expression was intense, but his energy was carefully locked away, like Song's. He sat like a tightly coiled predator, ready to react, but waiting for the right moment.

Five fixed Septimus with a glare before he went on. “Aside from all that, there's a lift.”

“Did you use it?!” Rae sat forward so far Song thought she might tip off her bed.

Five's smirk was back. “Yeah.”

“Damn, you've really have got some quad for a salarian,” Brute cheered. His expression was brighter and more engaged than Song had seen it. Maybe now, finally, everyone could believe that this escape thing was real. All it took was Five endangering his life without telling anyone.

Five grabbed Song's wrist, pulling himself up, excitement shining in his large eyes. “I found the docking bay.”

Cale, who had managed to calm himself at last jerked back into frenzied action. He dropped to his knees beside Five, words spilling out of his mouth in a torrent. “What kind of ships? How many? Were you able to access the bay or just see it? Were there guards?”

Five let his head fall back to the pillow, exhaling. “Once I got to that level of the station there were a lot more guards. Guards with guns instead of stun sticks. I don't think they're here for us. I think they keep slavers and other visitors to the station in line. From what I could see there are whole areas of the station we never even guessed at. I think the public is allowed to come here sometimes, view the matches in person, probably from special salons. I focused to finding the docking bay, but there were a lot of other locations marked on the control panel for the lift.” He paused, out of breath. Song squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“Shit,” Cale leaned back on his heels where he knelt, eyes wide. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself. His hands twitched as though they longed to work the controls of a ship again. “This... this could happen.”

“Wait,” Five raised his hand, wheezing in a breath. “Did I mention the guards? With guns? They might not be expecting a group of slaves, but you can bet they'd shoot us first and ask questions later... if we're alive to answer.”

“I'll bet none of them are ready for a krogan death charge,” Brute rumbled. Song flinched. He was probably right. None of those guards would be ready to face an oncoming krogan, but even Brute could only take so many bullets.

“Did you find an armory?” Rae asked.

“No. Wasn't looking for one. My goal was to find our ride out of here and get back to the barracks in one piece. I think I did the first part. Not so sure about the second...” Five winced. “I've never been invisible and moving that long before. A whole new challenge and I have to admit, it was a little thrilling. The mind numbing panic helped keep my powers strong, but now I feel like all those guards spent the day kicking the crap out of me.” Cale went for another cup of water and Five managed a sip before his head fell back to the pillow and he let out a weary sigh. “I'm sorry I scared you guys.” His voice slurred and his eyes were weary slits.

“I'll yell at you some more later,” Song rested her hand on his. “Get some rest. We'll discuss things and fill you in when you wake up.”

Five flipped his hand over and grasped Song's for a moment before he drifted off. He was deeply asleep almost at once and Song looked up at the watchful faces around her. Her mind was as wild as Cale's energy, each thought taking on a life of its own and blazing bright for a few moments before another shoved in to replace it. She didn't know where to begin.

“Ships,” Rae exhaled, almost dreamily. “We could just fly away.”

“We have to not get shot first,” Septimus reminded the group.

“Details,” Cale waved a dismissive hand. Song could tell that he was already picking out a ship in his head, even though he didn't even know what the selection was yet. Song suspected there would be plenty of muu vessels which could pose an issue. Fine, sleek ships that would be great for an escape, but were ill equipped for lengths of time in deep space and had to be controlled with biotics. Would Cale's piloting and Five's abilities be able to mesh well enough to get them away? They had no means to practice it. She could only hope they could find their way onto a slaver ship instead.

“So,” Brute's deep voice, though quiet, still echoed in the cavernous room. “What's the plan now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, Five, wow. Way to scare your friends to death and at the same time find out really cool stuff. Also aaaangst with Song and Septimus, because sometimes you just want to roll around in the angst.
> 
> Good news, kids! I think I'll be able to get you another chapter next monday too (5/15/17) Woo!
> 
> Many of you know that when I write I also come find theme songs for the characters or story. I already have a couple for 'The Game'. Here they are. If you, like me, have a vivid imagination, you can envision awesome music videos with the characters being kickass as you listen ;)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzPFc6Ouye8
> 
> (This one is really for Song, though she's not a man lol)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnwFtIJguEk


	24. The Will and The Way

Chapter 24  
The Will and The Way

 

Song and the others sat up for almost the full night talking. Five drifted in and out, but when he was awake they discussed new things for him to investigate the next time he went on a midnight sojourn. As much as all of them hated putting him in so much danger, they couldn't argue with results.

He still refused to take another person along and Song loathed the notion of him going it alone, but what choice did they have? This legendary freedom was more possible than it ever had before. Song wanted to kiss Five and smack him at the same time.

“You're sure you're alright to keep going out?” She asked for possibly the forth time.

He smiled up at her, blinking slowly, sleepily. “It's alright, Song. I just need to recover, then I'll be good.”

“Just as long as you don't decide to give me the cold shoulder again because of it,” she said, nudging him gently. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he mumbled, eye closing as he fell asleep again.

Song sat watching his restful features, ignoring the others around her as they chattered on. Finally Brute stood up with a grunt, “I believe we've talked this subject to death. We won't have a better idea of what we're doing until Five gets back out there and explores, which he cannot do until he recovers, so I suggest we let him get to it.”

Everyone made little noises of unwilling agreement and retreated to their own beds. Song stood, stretching, still stiff from the arena. The muscles in her arms burning from holding the polearm in the same position for so long. As she drifted to her bed, feet barely rising from the floor in her weariness, someone grasped at her hand. She half expected it to be Cale wanting to continue the escape conversation, though even his boundless energy had begun to flag at the end.

She turned. “Septimus?”

His green eyes shone like stars in the dark, his expression open, perhaps even vulnerable. “I... I was wondering if we could...talk?” He gestured with his head towards the far end of the room. “Down there.”

“Sure, of course,” Song allowed herself to be led by the hand, wondering what new worry was troubling her turian. As they went she idly admired the way his simple white shirt accented the lean muscle of his back and shoulders. He may have been put together a bit differently from a human, but she could still appreciate his toughness. “What's up?” she asked as they both took a seat on the farthest bed from the others, dipped in creamy shadow.

By way of answer Septimus leaned in and attempted a kiss. It wasn't bad. A little clumsy perhaps, but she appreciated it. Then he drew back, mandibles tight in the turian blush. He ducked his head and looked shyly, adorably, up at her. “I thought... since we've been awake most of the night anyway, maybe we could... could have another kissing lesson?”

Song smiled warmly. The most earnest and unfiltered expression she'd had in a while. Her weariness was instantly forgotten as she reached to cup his rough jaw. “I'd love to.” She paused, lips inches from his, a sudden shard of unease slicing through the moment. “You're alright, right? Septimus? You were upset before and I don't want to take advantage-”

He shook his head, his eyes going distant for the barest moment. “No. I'm... it comes and goes. Just like everyone else. Sometimes it just hits you, especially after a conversation with Brute.” He tried a chuckle and it came out dry and stumbling. Breathing in a great, cleansing breath he gave his head a little shake. “But then tonight... everyone was so energized, even you... especially you. And seeing you like that was so-” he cut himself off, blushing again.

Song felt her own skin warming as she reached up and gently hooked one of his mandibles with a finger. She drew him in and kissed him firmly.

Septimus grinned, his eyes flashing again as he leaned in, wrapping a strong arm around her back and pulling her against him. His kisses were better this time Song thought as she relished every moment. No, he really was getting good at this. She wasn't entirely certain when her shirt came off, or his for that matter. He had started running his fingers gently up and down her spine and it sent little excited jolts like electricity through her. She decided to get in on the act and began nibbling, even biting, at the base of his neck. He let out a little growl of pleasure then grabbed her hips, flipping her onto the bed with a surprised squeak.

Suddenly she was fumbling with his pants and he looked questioningly at her. She caught herself, withdrawing her hands. “I'm sorry... if... was I being too agressive?”

“No-” He sat back, still straddling her legs. “I like aggressive, it's just I... well I want to but I've never... with a human-”

“I've never done it with a male turian,” she pointed out. “We can go slow. Try things. Learn things about each other.” She reached out and ran a hand over his chest, following the ridges of his scales downward, stopping just short of his belt-line. “Only if you want to.”

He growled again. A deep, powerful sound that rattled Song to her core and made her want to growl back. He leaned down, kissing and nibbling across her abdomen until she was ready to do more than growl. She cupped both sides of his jaw and raised his head. He grinned wolfishly. “I'm more than willing to give this a try.”

~~~~~

“So-” Cale waggled his eyebrows at her when they returned to their barracks after breakfast.

The meal had been uninteresting, save for the fact that they had been obliged to support a still weary Five through most of it. Song had made a study of the winning asari team, half of whom were getting a special meal while the others received the same uninteresting food they were always given. There was no sign of dissent just yet, though the guards were particularly thick around Blue Team's table.

“So?” Song didn't meet her friend's eyes, knowing full well what he was hinting at.

“Rae, cover your ears,” Cale called impishly as they all began their daily stretches.

“I know what sex is. I'm not five,” Rae shot back, wrinkling her nose at Cale. “We all knew it was going to happen, so shut up.”

Song raised both eyebrows at Rae. Was the drell coming to her defense rather than joining Cale in his mockery? Even Brute gave Song a thumping pat on the back, rewarding a blushing Septimus with the same. Five rolled his eyes.

Cale raised both hands to Song and Rae. “Alright, no sass from me. I'm happy that my friends got to find a little joy in this shitty place. I wish they could find it someplace besides just down the room from where I sleep, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Good for you both, honestly.” He smiled warmly, though Song caught the twinge of sadness that might go unnoticed to someone who didn't know him like she did. He missed Luke desperately. Sometimes she caught him staring into space with a lost look in his eyes and she knew he was thinking of the man he had left behind. Would Luke really keep searching for Cale? Would he give up and move on? She wasn't entirely certain how long they had been at the transmishpere. The games were all starting to blend together and the weeks passed in a blur of routine. Meal, work out, meal, stretching, bed. And endless cycle, a bottomless pit... except- she looked at Septimus, who caught her gaze and smiled shyly back. They had both needed something out of the ordinary and they had been able to give it to each other. She was thankful down to her soul.

~~~~~

It took three days for Five to fully recover and be ready for another trip out into the station. He might have gone sooner, but Song insisted that he feel one hundred percent and he obliged, even when Cale's excited energy bombarded them both, hungry to know what else was out there.

“Maybe you can find your way around to the barracks hall, like Trick did,” Song suggested as they all gathered at the end of the room. The shower hall door was still propped open fractionally. Just enough to get their fingers around and pry it the rest of the way. No guards had noticed, though Five pointed out that the shower halls seemed to be deserted when they weren't being used. “If you can find your way to that hall you might be able to get to the dining room and then to the arming room before the arena.”

“Right,” Cale agreed. “We know there are weapons there.”

Five nodded, shaking out his long limbs and taking a cleansing breath. “I'll see what I can do.” They had given the poor salalrian a laundry list of places he might try to investigate and there was no way he could see them all. If something seemed too risky he was to move on to the next idea.

“Five,” Song grasped his hand as Cale yanked the door open with a grunt, revealing the empty, dimply lit hall beyond. It was achingly difficult to keep herself from stepping out into it, but instead Song laced her fingers with Five's the way they did before the arena. “Come back.”

He smiled at her, a warm genuine smile that was as good as a hug. “I will.” Then he slipped his hand from hers and stepped out into the hall beyond.

Even Cale was uncharacteristically quiet as they retreated to their end of the room and the waiting game began. Rae sat with her legs crossed tightly her feet bare and her head down as she almost seemed to meditate. Song wondered if the little drell was struggling with dark memories that were threatening to surface.

Cale sat clasping and unclasping his hands, as though trying to grasp something invisible. Song was glad to be on Brute's side of the room. The big krogan was the only one with calm to spare. Just being near him had a steadying effect and Song did her best to soak it in as the room went still and dark around them.

Hours later Song was almost drifting off. It was Septimus who heard Five's quiet hallooing from the beyond the door. The team scrambled over each other to reach it and pull him inside. As before he was breathless and could barely hold himself upright, but victorious. They got him to his bed and everyone gathered around to hear his findings.

Song helped Five sip a quick drink of water before he eagerly launched into his recount. She wished he would give himself a minute, but he forged ahead, almost as excited as Cale. “I took the lift again. This time I picked a different symbol. It seems, from what I could gather, that we are all kept on one level of an outer station ring. There are at least three levels on each ring and the central sphere houses the arena.”

Cale nodded. “That's how I imagined it too.”

“Right, but here's the thing; they have to control the arena from somewhere.”

“You found the control room?” Song asked, unable to keep the eagerness from even her voice.

I saw it. Couldn't go in. Even at night that place is swimming with muu. I know they have powerful biotics and I wasn't looking to get caught. I peeked inside and I overheard them talking about the next game. Something about speed. Not sure what.”

“Speed huh?” Rae was tucked up small at the foot of Five's bed. “Like with the shuttles?”

“Maybe,” Cale brightened. “And if we can have a shuttle maybe we can even use it to get us out of the arena.”

“Settle down, Cale.” Song grasped her friend's wrist. “We're not going to go for an escape right away. Let's plan this well. Half assing something this dangerous is a very bad idea.”

“In the mean time what? We keep getting sent into the death arena?” Cale spat back, startling Song with his venom.

“We keep doing what the game makers want. Play our parts and keep our heads down until we're ready to get out of here.” Brute spoke. Song wondered if the aging krogan truly believed what he said, or if he knew there was a good chance they would all die in this mad bid for freedom anyway. His voice was steady and it served to calm Cale, who finally sat down on his bed, though he bounced his knee rapidly.

“After the control room I was getting a little tired so I came back down to our level. I made my way around... I wish I'd had Rae with me because I got lost a couple times. I found the hall with all the front doors to our barracks. Not a guard in sight. Clearly they do not expect us to be out and wandering around. Trick must not have been seen in a while either.”

“If the salarians aren't sending their scout, I wonder if they're almost ready to go,” Septimus muttered, so quietly Song almost didn't hear. The turian realized people were looking at him and blinked, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Er... maybe we can piggyback off the salarians. Wait for them to try something then go ourselves while everyone is distracted.”

“Maybe,” Five considered, tightening his thin lips into a line. “We have no idea what their time table is.”

“What else did you find?” Rae bounced, rippling her thin mattress.

“I followed the hall to the dining area. Some slaves were cleaning in there so I had to go invisible again.” He paused, sighing and pressing long fingers between his eyes as though remembering the strain, or perhaps still feeling it. Song wished she could somehow feed him some of her strength. He seemed like the most fragile member of their team, yet he was the one being sent out into danger again and again. Now he was volunteering for it. He was hardly recognizable as the Five who had come in with her as a cowed slave, but she was beginning to understand that, just as there was a hidden warrior inside her, there was something about Five that none of them had guessed. This promise of a freedom he had never known was enticing enough for him to risk himself over and over again. If they did manage to get out of this place, she vowed to make it her personal mission to be certain Five's every hope and dream came true.

“Did you get to the weapon room?” Asked Cale.

Five shook his head. “The door was closed. And locked. I would have needed a modified wrist cuff like Trick had to get in. Honestly I'm not even sure that would have been enough. You might need special clearance.”

“What about through the medbay?” Song asked. “When people are taken out for injuries they go through a different door. They're not taken back out into the dining hall.”

Five let out a long, weary breath. “I'll have to check that out next time. I didn't have the energy or focus left to find my way there.”

“Now worries buddy,” Cale reached across and put a hand on Five's arm. “You're already doing plenty. You're my god damn hero.”

Five blinked at Cale, then smiled, practically beaming. Everyone was smiling like a pack of idiots, even Brute.

“So,” Cale said, sitting back, still grinning like the man Song had known when he'd first come to the arena. Cale was as unbroken as ever and she was beginning to wonder if there was anything that could snap his spirit. Things could dampen it certainly, but never put it out. “The plan as it stands-” he turned to his bed, creating a rudimentary map with his blankets, forming them into little ridges for walls. “This isn't to scale but you get the idea. Here's us, in our room.” He plopped his hand down leaving a large indent in the blankets. He repeated the motion on either side of his first mark. “And these are the other slave barracks. Here's the hall to the dining area and if you follow it the other way it goes to?”

“A lift.” Five answered.

“Right, the lift. The lift that can potentially take us anywhere we want to go on this station.”

“I have to say, a few people are starting to notice that it opens and closes on its own with no one inside.” Five raised a slim hand weakly from where it rested on his stomach. “One guard even came into the lift with me, trying to figure it out. Let me tell you, I'm glad I'm skinny.”

Everyone chuckled but worry sliced through Song again. It was easy to joke now, but Five had been scant inches from being captured. Whatever the game makers would do to him then, she remembered Trick's words. “They won't just kill me. They'll torture me to death.” She shuddered.

“Alright,” Cale cordoned off another portion of his bed. “Now describe again how to get to the hanger bay.”

Five went over as many specifics as he could remember and Cale mapped them out in blankets. Brute grunted, “Well this is all lost on me,” and shuffled back to his own bed for sleep.

“I wish you could take me along,” Rae griped. “I could remember this all right down to the number of bulkheads between us and the ship we want.”

“Is that ever annoying?” Cale cocked his head at her. “Remembering everything like that?”

“Sometimes,” Rae shrugged. “Like anything is annoying I guess. I'm used to it. I can't imagine what it's like being a human who forgets details all the time. My brain can compartmentalize too. I can put thing away that I don't really need, for access later. Sometimes though,” she looked at her hands. “Sometimes everything bubbles to the surface and I can't tell where I am... or when I am. The memory takes over.” She shook her head, eyes flashing stubbornly. “That hasn't happened for a while. It's... inconvenient.”

“Either way I can't take you with. At least not now.” Five said, his voice still husky and drained. “I can barely keep myself invisible, let alone two of us walking around.”

Cale pressed on with his planning, undaunted. “So, when we're ready we all leave through the shower hall. Creep past the slaves in their little barracks, and head for the lift. When we reach the docking deck we'll have more issues. Maybe Five can visit there again and check out some guard movements and rotations. Maybe scout out a nice ship for me... us,” he corrected himself, grinning lopsidedly. “Once we know how we're going to get around on that deck its just a matter of sneaking in and helping ourselves.”

“If the ships are locked down in some way?” Septimus folded his arms.

“That'll be tricky. Song, you speak the muu language, so maybe you can help with any lock-downs.”

“Er...” Song drew back, “It's not like I have security passwords memorized.”

“You'll have a better chance than us,” Cale pressed, doggedly. “It would be great if we could stop in and grab some weapons before he go, but if we can't that's fine. Sometimes the direct route in the best route. And we do have Five's dagger, once we're done using it in the door.”

“One dagger. We'll really have a leg up on all those people with guns,” Five said. He was trying to see Cale's map as best he could from where he lay.

“Better than no dagger at all,” Cale pointed out, unwilling to let his enthusiasm be dimmed.

“How many more times do we send Five out there before we make a break for it?” Asked Rae, who bounced down from where she was sitting on Five's bed and joined Cale beside his, scrutinizing his crude blanket map.

“That... I'm not sure of.” Cale rubbed his chin, tweaking this or that little detail in the blankets. “I want to be out of here as much as you all do, but like we were saying, we can't rush out without at solid plan.”

“I think Five is done for this week,” Song said. She was still seated beside her salarian friend. “If he goes out again it'll be right before a game and then he won't be fit in the arena.”

Five's lip curled with frustration. “I wish it didn't take me so fucking long to recover. I wish I'd had the... what does Brute call it? The quad? I wish I'd had the quad to start practicing this sooner.”

Song put her hand on Five's boney shoulder. “You're doing fine. The fact that we started plotting all this so late means we had plenty of time to sell our 'we're harmless' act to the muu and the other teams. No one will suspect in a million years that you're the one who's been sneaking around opening lifts.”

“They probably just think they're haunted.” Rae giggled.

“By the ghost of a salarian. Now that is terrifying.” Five snorted, but he was smiling.

~~~~~

“What's up with him?” Ric asked as he leaned in his usual spot at their table the next morning. He jabbed a thumb towards Five who slumped in his chair, dark circles under his eyes.

“Night terrors,” Rae supplied before anyone else could speak. Song flicked a glance in her direction. The drell nodded firmly. “He's been having them all week. He keeps us up too.”

Song had to work to keep her passive mask in place as Rae grinned proudly around at her team. It was a solid explanation for why the rest of them also looked weary the morning after one of Five's little midnight strolls.

“Poor kid,” Ric said, with what was at least a good approximation of sympathy before he turned his attention back to flirting with Cale.

Cale was distracted that morning, his mind obviously abuzz with plans and plots too numerous to count. Song was glad sometimes that she didn't have a mind like his. She wondered if he drove Luke crazy with a thousand schemes and wild scenarios. Then Ric was reaching to tip Cale's chin up towards him and the pilot flinched away. He recovered quickly, plastering his winning smile onto his face so fast that Ric might not have noticed. Ric did notice. He cupped Cale's jaw and his eyes narrowed. “Are you... alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” Cale said, putting on his next expert expression, this time of drained gloominess. He even reached up and clasped Ric's wrist warmly.

Everyone's attention was distracted afresh by a loud clatter from Blue Team's table. All the hair on Song's neck stood up as the asari boitics flared to life. Ric rolled his eyes, snapping his baton out of its holster with practiced quickness. “I don't know what the game makers were thinking. They had to know this would happen.” With a sigh he marched to join the other guards who were rushing in to break up the scuffle.

“What's up?” Brute asked, raising his head from his disgusting meal.

“Looks like Blue has finally reached that boiling point we were worried about,” Song reported.

“Or that the game makers wanted.” Brute chuckled. “They don't give a fuck who they endanger, as long as they can manipulate us to behave the way they want. They like the asari to be in dissent because that means they won't unite against their captors. A whole team of asari actually working together against you? Now that's as dangerous as a krogan battle charge.”

“But they couldn't have known the asari would win,” Cale pointed out, wincing as a guard was slammed against the wall by a biotic sphere.

“Couldn't they?” Brute cocked his head. “When they wanted us to win, we won.”

“I've never felt so manipulated,” Five joked, spearing his food in mock frustration. “Funny that we're playing the part to keep the game makers off our backs... what if the asari are too?”

“You think we krogan are all mindless killing machines?” Brute blinked hazy eyes in Five's direction. “Or that the humans are a pack of idiots who couldn't win a match if they tried?”

Cale snorted with quiet laughter. “So we're all playing the part.”

“We want to stay alive.” Muttered Septimus, looking down into his food.

Song reached over and grasped his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. He rewarded her with one of his sweet, shy smiles that melted her heart every time.

“Oops, looks like the krogan are taking advantage of so many guards being distracted,” Cale said, speaking like some kind of commentator. “They're antagonizing the turians now. Ooooo, that looked like it hurt!”

The little riot was nothing to the one that had nearly killed everyone on Yellow Team, but more guards had to be called in. The krogan, obviously intent on causing as much trouble as possible, took a while to subdue. Yellow huddled obediently at their table, outwardly looking terrified, inwardly enjoying the show. It was almost refreshing to see trouble brewing without their being involved. When a couple of game makers appeared, after the guards had the situation mostly in hand. Neither looked pleased. They dipped their heads together, speaking in hushed voices. Song wondered if this was an act, or if they really were unhappy with the way things had gone. Perhaps the krogan were not meant to interfere. Song chewed reflectively on her fiber square hoping that whatever had happened it was enough to keep the game makers happy just a little longer. Until Yellow Team could vanish right out from under their noses.

~~~~~

Later, as the group were shuffled out of the room following the flow of the rowdy crowd, Cale shuddered beside Song. “I can't keep doing this.”

“What?” Song cocked her head, expertly leading Brute around a cluster of humans.

“With Ric. It's slowly killing me.”

“We're almost done.” Song reached over and squeezed his wrist, inwardly impressed that even it felt well muscled.

“I know.” He grimaced, running a hand back over his stubbly hair. “I just... every damn day he shows up and I-”

“I know.” Song soothed as best she could while keeping an eye out for trips hazards. She knew Brute must be listening to them, but the big krogan kept quiet.

Cale took in a bracing breath. “It's good. It's useful to have him. He's the closest thing to an ally we have around here. I just wish I didn't have to feel like I was stabbing Luke in the heart every damn time we talk.”

Song nodded, uncertain what to say. Maybe she wasn't meant to say anything. She thought of suggesting that he never tell Luke about the endless flirting and unwanted kisses he'd received, but she suspected already that Cale and his husband kept nothing from each other. She could only hope that Luke was as amazing as Cale said he was, and would be forgiving, given the circumstances, even as Cale became less and less able to forgive himself. “Just a little bit longer,” was all she could think to say and it sounded endlessly unhelpful as soon as her words hit the air.

Brute gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, whispering in her ear. “He'll be alright... well, as alright as any of us can be.”

“I hope so.” She watched as Cale moved ahead to walk with Five and Septimus.

~~~~~

“What's this game about?” Cale asked Ric casually as everyone was kitted out with their gear.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Nara was standing too close by and she cocked an angular eyebrow at Cale, more amused than threatening.

“Did we earn enough points last time for anything new?” Rae stood on tiptoe to try to see the slave who was taking her time bringing them the datapad.

“Doubtful,” Brute answered.

“At least maybe with this match over things will go back to normal and the the fucking asari will settle down.” Nara griped, her hand resting absently on her holstered baton. Blue Team hadn't been the same since their issues had finally come to a head in the dining hall a few days before. “Whenever the game makers decide to mess with the team dynamics it makes a hell of a mess for us guards. They don't pay us enough,” Nara concluded.

As the slave finally arrived with the datapad Song idly wondered how much the guards were paid. Perhaps a canny slave could try to bribe them. Someone like Cale with a life and money outside the arena. Song knew she didn't have anything to offer a guard that they couldn't simply take from her.

“-Still missing that dagger.”

Song raised her head. The slave who handed out their weapons had stopped to frown at Five's bandolier. The nearby guards all looked up at Five, who wore an expression of total bafflement and innocence. He'd been working on that one all week and it was flawless.

“Did you check with the medbay?” Nara asked, eyes hooded with disinterest, though she did more than Ric, who continued to lean placidly against the wall. If Song hadn't seen how quickly the man could draw his baton and leap into action, she would never have believed it. Nara went on. “He probably stuck it into somebody and the medbay never returned it. You know how lazy they are about that shit.”

The slaves looked at one another and shrugged. Clearly between the guards' indifference and Five's expert look of innocence they weren't overly concerned with the absent weapon. If anything it just meant Five didn't have as much to defend himself with in the arena, which made for slightly better watching for the muu.

Song hefted her polearm as Cale stepped in to look over the gear they couldn't afford on the datapad. Even though most people had figured out that Song was the real leader of Yellow Team, she let Cale do the looking. He was still the biggest personality. Maybe one of these days they could even put on a mock fight between herself and the other human. The muu seemed to enjoy teams in conflict after all. Distantly she could hear the asari, still causing trouble for their guards and each other. How much of that was an act? She cocked her head to see around the respectively docile human team. How much of anything people did around here was for show? The attempt to kill Yellow Team for their win had been real, and Song had sported the bruises to prove it, but this? She pursed her lips and turned her attention back to her own people.

This time they were led into the arena as teams, no splitting up. Song was glad of this, but she remembered what Five had overheard in the control room. 'Game of speed.' How fast could Yellow go with a blind krogan in their wake, and she certainly wasn't about to leave Brute behind. Of course she wasn't thinking of trying to win. If hiding and cowering were what the game makers wanted after all, she was happy to oblige.

“Son of a bitch. This again?” Cale gripped as they stepped out into the false sunlight.

Song stood on tiptoe describe to Brute what awaited them as they stepped onto a wide ferry to be shuttled to their starting position. Rae made a little sound in her throat and grabbed Brute's arm as a child might cling to a parent.

Once again they found themselves in an arena mostly taken up by empty space. A fathomless drop awaited them if they stepped off the wide starting platform. In the center of the arena stood another platform, this one much larger. Possibly even enough for every team to stand on if they felt like getting along instead of murdering one another. Stretching from the center to each of the starting platforms was were bridges, like spokes coming out from a wheel.

“Interesting,” Brute muttered when Song finished her description.

“Sure,” Five grumbled, peering over the edge as they were offloaded from the ferry.

Nara and Ric didn't even bother disembarking, but stood waiting as Yellow stepped obediently onto their faintly glowing starting plates. Then they flew away without a backward glance. “Do you suppose that means this arena is going to be easy?” Cale asked, eying Ric's retreating shape as the ferry buzzed away.

“Maybe. As long as no one decides to come down our little bridge to bother us we can just stay here and sit tight.” Song crouched a few times to wake up her leg muscles. She whipped her polearm down in three practice attacks. She could mime holding the weapon as much as she wanted back in their barracks, but it was nothing to actually having it in her hands. Before she felt silly, now she felt deadly.

“Just plant me in the middle of the bridge. They'll leave you alone.” Brute folded his arms.

“Unless some of those asari come flying over using biotics,” Rae pointed out.

“I think it's too far,” Five, who was nearest one edge, pointed out. “They'd have to jump from bridge to bridge and then they'll have to deal with brute.”

“Heh heh heh.” The krogan let out his punctuated laugh and it was hard for Song not to join him. Her team was in an impossibly good mood. Here they were led back into the death arena to face who knew what, but everyone was having to work to hide their smiles. Even Brute was having one of his good days. Good days which were becoming marginally more frequent. Everyone was bolstered by the thought that the impossible really could come true.

“Greetings everyone!” The voice from the sky crackled to life, interrupting the canned bird song. “We're in the sky once again today for another special challenge. You asked for more games of skill, and we heard you!”

“Who asked for that?” Septimus snorted, addressing the digital clouds.

The voice went on. “As you can see, all our teams are arranged around one, central hub. On this hub they will find a special receptacle-” A metallic cylinder raised up from the center of the middle platform. “On each team platform the teams will be given coins-”

Song and the others watched as another, smaller cylinder rose from the ground in the center of their own platform. Inside were what might have been hundreds of glowing yellow disks, small enough to fit easily in a fist.

The voice went on. “To win the game teams must have the largest amount of their coins in the central receptacle at the end of our time limit. You viewers at home will see the countdown on your screens, but our players will have no way of knowing how long their game will go! Of course, this seems a bit too simple, doesn't it?”

“Of course it does.” Five rolled his eyes.

“You might be thinking; well, teams that don't want to win will have no reason to leave their platform. Now, naturally, all our teams want to win-”

“Speak for yourself,” said Song, getting in on the heckling action.

“-The coins each team has don't just add points, they also buy a team more time. You see, as time goes on in this game, the starting platforms will begin getting smaller...if a team isn't diligent enough with their coin drops, their platform will vanish all together, leaving them high and dry, and vulnerable. Wounds today are worth twenty points. Kills worth ten.”

“Shit,” snarled Five, slim hands balling into fists. “Of course they wouldn't just let us sit here and watch the show.”

“Under dogs we may be, but they want to see us in action.” Brute growled.

BONG! The light in the sky appeared.

“Alright.” Song exhaled, trying to keep calm. “Alright... Five, you're best for getting coins to the center because you can send them part way using biotics. Less risk for you, but still dangerous.”

“Don't get killed man, we need you,” Cale said, eying the bridge that spanned across to the waiting center platform. It was wide enough to accommodate several of Yellow's members walking in a group. “At least the path isn't too narrow.”

“Just watch out for the asari,” Septimus pointed out. “You could wind up with nothing but sky under your feet.”

BONG!

“They're all the way on the other side of the arena,” Rae's voice was shaky, but there was a wild glint in her eyes that Song hadn't expected.

“You should move fast,” Brute spoke next. “Those who are making the run grab coins immediately and head for the center. We might be able to beat some of the other teams in and get a free coin drop.”

“I shouldn't run,” Septimus lowered his head, shame faced. “I'm too clumsy.”

“You keep the runners covered,” Song instructed. “Let anyone who tries to come after them get a taste of your arrows.” She looked around at her team. “Alright, so who's running besides Five?”

Before she got her reply the gong sounded a final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit choppier than I'd like. Important stuff happening, but if I were going to publish this badboy one day (which I'm actually thinking about- morphing it into an original scifi) I'd smooth the chapter out a bit. For now you guys wanted a chapter and a chapter you shall have! I might be able to crack out another one for next week, but I'm not sure. Work on my current original book is increasing again ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed a mini, steamy, Song/Septimus scene ;) :p


	25. Run

Chapter 25  
Run 

The Gong sounded and Song rocked forward onto her toes, almost leaping off her pad before she stalled herself. They didn't have a plan yet. This did not seem to matter to Rae, who darted into the center of their platform and snatched up a handful of coins, ripping her sword from its sheath with her other hand. Then she was off like a shot, leaving a baffled Five collecting a few coins in her wake.

“Rae!” Song managed as her body reacted almost of its own accord. She rushed to the bridge and took a position half way down, polearm ready, braced to cover the drell when she came back. Five passed her hovering a dagger before him, both hands full of the yellow coins. He gave Song a shrug as he sprinted for the receptacle.

“The fuck is wrong with this team?” Cale was at Song's shoulder.

“I have no idea,” Song said between gritted teeth as Rae dropped the coins in the center cylinder and turned to run back. She was fast. Faster than any of the other teams. Most, like the turians and asari, were still working out their plans, while others (the salarians) obviously had their own schemes to focus on. The krogan were second to spring into action and the giant warriors surged forward with their coins.

“The hell was that?” Song demanded as Rae zipped past her with the nimbleness of a wild animal.

“Making sure we don't die,” the drell responded as she scooped up another handful of coins. “Septimus! Quit!”

The lanky turian intercepted Rae before she could charge off again. He looked to Song.

Song pursed her lips scornfully. “You should have mentioned your plan before you took off,” she scolded, “but since we can see that you're probably the fastest one here, get moving.” As Rae shot out past Septimus, Song hoped that she'd be able to call the willful young woman back if things got rough, which things looked likely to do as the krogan, human, turian and asari all seemed fit to collide in the center now.

Five jogged back, already panting from the effort of running and keeping his dagger ready to use. He paused just behind Song, “How quickly do we think our platform will vanish if we don't keep feeding coins to the center?”

“No idea,” Song exhaled. “All the other teams seem to have brought a lot of coins and all we have is two people dropping ours off.”

“I'll let you know.” Brute's deep voice made Song startle. She shot a glance over her shoulder. Brute had inched closed to the back edge of their starting platform. Presumably if part of it fell away he'd be able to let them know, but he could just as easily drop off into the waiting abyss. Septimus was back there too, arrow nocked to bow, ready to shoot anyone who came too close. Could he kill their enemies and keep half an eye on Brute as well?

“Cale,” Song hissed, jerking her head behind her.

“Right.” Her friend said, though he was obviously loath to leave her as the lone defender on the bridge. “I'm coming back to you, buddy,” he informed the krogan. Song watched out of the corner of her eye, feeling rather than seeing the hurt that passed across her blind friend's features. He was useless again. He needed a babysitter to watch him.

“INCOMING!” Rae zipped down the path at such a clip that Song had to dodge out of the way.

“The fuck, Rae?”

“We won't have many more of these freebies left!” The drell called over her shoulder, skidding to a half-stop to grab more coins. Brute reached out and stopped her the rest of the way before she could slip off an edge.

“Freebies?” Song asked as Five returned, moving much more slowly than his drell counterpart. The salarian jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Right now everyone is focused on getting coins into the central pot so they don't lose ground, but pretty soon the fighting starts.”

Song's muscles tightened, battle ready, as she turned back to the main platform; Rae rushing past her again, fleet and nimble. Song wondered what the little drell had done in her old life that might have prepared her for this. She seemed born to it. Where Five hesitated, uneasy, to send his coins flying into the receptacle from a safe distance, Rae dodged in past deadly aliens and deposited hers by hand. True, at the moment, most of the teams were ignoring one another except to jostle others of their way, but how long could that last? And there was little Rae, a flash of green skin in a sea of giants.

Five was right. After he and Rae had made two more runs with yellow coins, the fighting began. Five and Rae pulled back, standing with Song on the bridge, watchful. For the moment no one seemed inclined to notice Yellow. Even for a few easy points. Still, Song knew Septimus was tracking anyone who one showed the slightest sign of heading in their direction. Song felt oddly safe, even with warring aliens not thirty feet from her.

The krogan began it in eanrest. Or it might have been the asari. Their dislike for one another was palpable, as was the obvious asari disdain for species like the humans or salarians. The turians moved in formation, managing to fight and keep up their flow of coins towards the center. “I think they're going to win.” Song mused, watching the way Green Team worked. It was like waves lapping against the a shore. Ever shifting ranks moving up and back, fighting when they needed to, then withdrawing.

Rae bounced on the balls of her feet, still clearly filled with adrenalin. Her dark eyes were wide as she studied the fighters. Song wondered if she was memorizing. Maybe they could make use of what she saw, if they were forced into many more arena fights. The timetable for their escape was, after all, rather fluid at the moment.

The first krogan went over the edge. He half roared, half screamed as the asari forced him away from his group and sent him tumbling over and over into the nothingness below. The fight was too noisy for Song to hear the crack as the korgan hit bottom. Beside her both Five and Rae flinched anyway. “Shit,” the salarian breathed.

“Song!” Cale called from behind her.

Song turned, squinting. Cale was artfully guiding Brute away from the back edge of their platform which was decidedly nearer than the last time Song had looked at it. “Fuck,” she snarled, her grip tightening on her polearm. She caught the flash of Septimus' eye as he looked to her for direction. Everyone was looking to her for direction, she realized with a sinking feeling. Was she ever going to become the confident leader these people seemed to think she was, or was it always going to be like this? Grasping at desperate straws in deadly situations? Even as her heart began to beat its battle rhythm on the inside of her ribcage, she gritted her teeth. “Rae, Five, grab more coins. As many as you can. Septimus, cover us!”

Song saw Brute lean towards Cale, asking what they were all doing as the human kept the krogan away from the encroaching edge. Song hoped that if her blind mentor had a better plan than what she was about to try, he'd voice is quickly. For a shameful moment she wished that he could see. That he could charge in with them, ripping limbs and sending their enemies flying. Her gut twisted at the thought and she forced herself to focus back to the task at hand.

With no further instruction coming from Brute she turned, flanked by Five and Rae, to begin their drive towards the goal. Song gritted her teeth as they approached the chaos that was the central platform. The fighting surged like a roiling pile of wild animals. The asari dangled foes in the air or threatened to drop them off the edge. Wounds were still worth more than kills, but a team might make a mistake if several of their buddies were suspended above the abyss.

“Alright, let's be careful,” Song growled, so low the other two might not have heard her.

Several members of the human team cut past them, ripping a swath of efficient wounds in enemy flanks as they went. Their keen blades glinted, and though several of them were bleeding, they fought on and kept pace. Song felt an odd surge of pride. They might not have been her team, but they were her species.

“Go!” Song let the order crack from her lips the moment she saw an opening. Rae again darted forward with startling speed. Song barely had time to position herself to keep the gap open for the little drell before she dodged in. She bounced past snarling krogan and avoided an asari bubble of biotics as though it were second nature. Memorization, Song realized. Rae must have figured out the way that at least some of the combatants moved. How they tended to use their abilities. It was startling and even breathtaking to watch.

Five, for his part, simply launched his coins into the center once he had a clear view. Then he pulled out his remaining two daggers as the turian team pushed past them.

“Out of the way, Yellow,” snarled a voice Song knew. Empress, taking the point of her team's spearhead formation, bared her teeth, amber eyes glinting with deadly light.

Song withdrew slightly, letting the turians through. They ignored Rae, who bounced clear of them, dancing to one side. Unfortunately this brought Rae into range of the warring krogan and asari. An unexpected blow caught the little drell from behind and sent her crashing to her knees. Song lost sight of her for a moment as the turians withdrew, their coins deposited.

“Where is she?” Five asked desperately, daggers ready, stepping back to avoid the human team sweeping in from their left.

“There!” Song pointed with her polearm. The krogan ignored the ldrell, but she was trapped amongst their legs, pushed down and unable to get back to her feet. Red Team's drell had spotted her and drawn his own blade, his dark eyes intent on Rae. “Go!” Song shouted to Five, only after the word had left her and she sprang into motion, did she realize what an idiot she was being. Hopefully Five would keep up.

Slashing left and right, feeling the satisfying catch of her blade against enemy flesh or armor, Song dove into the fray, driving straight for Rae. A few members of Red Team took notice, but soon found themselves skewered by Five's daggers or arrows from Septimus, though Song knew he didn't have many arrows to send their way. Five ripped an arrow from a krogan's neck with his biotics and then plunged it into a different spot, at least momentarily dissuading the giant, who was reaching for Song.

Both she and Five were splattered with crimson krogan blood and some asari purple by the time they reached Rae. She had managed to maneuver herself so her flimsy blade was between her and the enemy drell, but his sword was better made, and longer. He'd already opened two angry wounds on Rae's legs. He was too focused on harassing Raw to noticed the two members of her team that came up on them, and Song kicked the male drell diurectly in the face. He went sprawling back, crashing into the legs of his krogan teammates, his wide nose gushing red.

A krogan elbow collided with Song's jaw as she reached for Rae and she instinctively wrenched the butt of her polearm around and up to crack it against the giant’s temple, managing to slide off the hard head-plate and smash him in the eye. The krogan staggered sideways, stunned.

Ignoring the throbbing her her jaw Song grabbed Rae by the back of her collar and dragged the drell out, hoping that Five and Septimus would be able to keep the path open. She heard Five make a sharp sound of pain as he moved behind her but she didn't have time to turn and check. A krogan kick nearly sent her sprawling and she couldn't retaliate with her polearm one handed, so she gritted her teeth and kept going, ignoring the fresh blossom of pain in her calf where she'd been struck.

Finally back on the bridge Song collapsed with Rae on top of her, both of them panting heavily. Five, who was cradling one arm, though Song saw no blood, had managed to collect Septimus' arrows, and hurriedly floated them back to the archer before he stood over Song and Rae, a protective scarecrow.

“Alright?' Song managed, trying to assess Rae's wounds with the drell still on top of her.

Rae pushed against Song's, elbowing the human in the ribs as she struggled to be free of her. Rae's lips were twisted in a disgusted grimace. “Fuck,” she snarled. There were tears welling in her eyes, but she seemed too stubborn to shed them as she examined the wounds on her legs. “That fucker! He said he'd carve me up to teach me a lesson about respect. He said he'd cut out my eye. I should have cut off his balls.”

“There may yet be time for that,” Five said, smiling crookedly.

“You guys had to save me. I wasn't going to win that fight,” Rae spat with unmistakable bitterness.

“Should we have left you in there to die then?” Song asked, prodding gingerly at her own leg, certain it wasn't badly damaged. She got stiffly to her feet.

Rae didn't answer, instead grabbing a medigel from her belt and cracking it open, slathering the blue goo on her cuts.

“Guys. We have a problem,” Cale reported from behind them.

Song turned, her thundering heart sinking towards her boots. The few coins Rae and Five had been able to deposit were clearly not enough. Another sizable section of their starting platform was gone. Septimus gave her an uneasy look as he flicked blood from the one of his arrows and fitted it to his bow.

“Alright.” Brute's voice rumbled powerfully, even over the sound of the fighting. “You're not going to like this, but I don't care. Grab more coins and get behind me. Cale, aim me at the goal and let's go.”

“What?” Song choked and Five gave her a wide eyed stare.

“Krogan shield wall, only we don't have enough for a wall, and I'm the shield.” Brute said, as calmly as though he were telling her how he felt about his breakfast. “Song, you and your polearm on my right, stab anyone who gets in your range. Cale on my left, don't take shots unless you know its safe. Little sister, you and the twig stay behind me with the coins and only spring out when we're close enough for you to go in safely. Archer, keep up the cover fire I know you've been laying down.”

No one argued. Not even Song, though she was desperate to. She managed a few clumsy syllables as Brute moved past her on the bridge, but he simply tilted his head in her direction. “This isn't me trying to end my life, Song. This is me making sure we all come out of this without falling off a fucking ledge.”

Song knew there was more to it than that. She knew it in the way he squared his shoulders. The way he stood taller. He could smell the blood, hear the fight, but he was trapped behind when he should be leading the charge. If she had had any semblance of a stronger idea, Song would have voiced it. Instead she fell in where she'd been instructed.

They moved up the bridge as one unit, stopping at the end where, if she had a clear shot, Five could send their coins flying into the receptacle. Rae, taking her cue, began darting back to collect as many from their starting platform as she could, then running them up to Five for him to place. It was a bit slower, as Five had to guide them past the unpredictable combat.

Luckily, no one paid much attention to Yellow. Red even chuckled and threw salutes towards Brute when they saw him taking point. Everyone else seemed to realize that Yellow would not cause them any trouble, and the points weren't worth the hassle of going against Brute, blind as he was. There was still something intimidating about a krogan standing tall and fearless at the point of a formation, no matter if he could see or not. Others naturally shied from him, though he held no weapon nor wore any armor.

The human teams were the bravest, darting in to slice at Brute's limbs with their blades, leaving shallow cuts which the krogan did not even seem to notice. Song lashed out with her polearm, managing wounds of her own as Black Team swarmed past, moving like insects. She caught sight of the pale youth she and Five had met in the tunnels. He gave her a flashing smile before vanishing from sight in the roiling crowd.

Yellow managed to hold their ground as the game wore on and finally ended. Weary, sore, and a bit scraped up, they were all happy to let their cuffs snap together and even managed to fall without tipping off the bridge. Song, laying on her side, partially propped against Brute, who was laughing and obviously in a better mood, looked back at their starting platform. Even with their efforts and sizable amount of it was gone.

Brute and Five were taken from them and led away to the infirmary shortly after, though their wounds were largely superficial. Song and the rest of Yellow were led out by a pleased Ric and obviously bored Nara. Song saw the tall woman shooting glances towards Red Team. Why would you ever choose to guard a team that was filled with people just looking for a chance to pull your limbs off and hit you with them, Song wondered as they rode the shuttle out of the arena.

Weapons were handed in and it was back to their room for showers. Everyone was nervous when the shower hall door snapped open. No one wanted to be caught checking on the dagger, which seemed to be wedged so securely into the doorjamb it didn't fall out. Still, Song wondered how her team managed not to look like the most suspicious people in the galaxy as they cast innocent gazes towards the ceiling, or stared at their hands. Even Song, who schooled her expression expertly into her patented neutral mask, caught herself looking too vehemently away from where the dagger was wedged.

Dawn was in a chatty mood again. Such an odd contrast to the shy, quiet girl who had first led Song through her showers. Again, Song let Dawn talk, making certain to nod and add an “mmhmmm,” when it seemed appropriate. Song's mind was miles away, lost in the stars and freedom she could almost feel on the tips of her fingers.

~~~~

Two days after the arena Five made plans to go out for another 'mission'. This time he would focus on the finding of weapons and possibly food. If they were going to steal a ship, who knew if it would be provisioned. Especially considering their wildly varying dietary needs.

They saw Five off with the usual encouragement that he not die, and then settled in to wait. 

“Rae,” Song sat on her bed, legs tucked against her chest, looking through the dimness across the room to where Cale and Rae were once again constructing maps out of blankets.

“Yeah?”

“I don't think I ever asked you. What are you doing when you get free?”

“I...” Rae stopped, blinking for a moment as though she hadn't understood the question. The shadows across her face made her eyes look all the larger, her face even more youthful. “I guess I don't know. I guess I haven't thought about it.” Suddenly her lower lip was trembling and she withdrew, folding in on herself onto her bed.

“Wha-” Song let out a baffled sound more than a word. She stood, moving cautiously towards the drell, who tucked her up legs and wrapped her arms around them. “Rae? What did I say wrong?”

“Little Sister?” Brute's rumbling voice joined Song's, bright with concern.

Rae sniffed, wiping the back of her hand fiercely under her nose. She glared at Song with eyes that sparkled with unshed tears. “I don't know what I'm going to do, okay? You all have your dreams and shit and what have I got? Nothing. I've got fuckall.”

“You've got us,” Cale said, sitting down on one of his blanket rooms and little noticing.

“For how long? You've got your husband waiting. Five's going to go join the STG, Song and Brute are running away to the stars and Septimus can go back to his family. I don't have any family left. My sister was it, and they killed her.” She bared her teeth for a moment, fighting back something Song suspected was a memory.

“You've got a fine family right here.” Brute's voice was as reassuring as a hug. Strange to come from a murderous giant, but then, nothing about Yellow Team made sense.

“Uhhuh,” Rae scowled. “Well what if I want a job? Want to make something out of myself? My sister and I, we ran jobs for Aria. We were a big deal... 'til we got caught.”

“Can you go back to that?” Song tilted her head, wondering who Aria was. Rae had said the name like it mattered.

“I can't. My sister was the draw. The brains. It was just little and quick. I even look younger than I am so I can get away with more. If I went back to Aria now she'd laugh right in my face and have her guards pitch me out on my ass.”

“What about your home world?” Song asked.

“Not going back there. Drell who stay on the home world too long all end up dying of this thing called Kepral's syndrome and let me tell you, it is not a good way to go.” Rae's lips were curled in disgust, as thought she tasted something bitter.

“I don't know that I'm going home...” Septimus spoke up, his voice gentle. “You could come with me... maybe?”

Rae looked up, her expression growing fiery. Song knew the little drell was about to take all their heads off as only she could. Rae opened her mouth to begin when everyone's cuffs snapped together.

Song hit the floor with an 'oof'. She heard Cale swear as his head struck the wall on his way down. Luckily Brute was sitting on his bed, so he managed to remain upright, but the rest of them looked like landed fish, flopping on the floor in a puddle of their own bafflement.

“The hell?” gasped Rae, who was still on her bed, but whose wrists had been clasped together while she still had her arms around her knees so she had tipped sideways. “I didn't even start yelling yet. Why would they-?”

Song craned her neck as a sound from the door caught their attention. She didn't even have time to panic about the fact that Five was still missing, everything happened so quickly. The door snapped open and where Song expected to see guards, instead there loomed the lanky shape of a salarian.

“Five?” Song managed to prop herself into a sitting position by levering against the floor with her head and elbows. Not dignified, but effective. “Why? How?”

“Not Five.” said the salarian, stepping into the room. Trick's breathing was ragged, as though he had been sprinting. He knelt beside Song and deactivated her cuffs. “Your Five's in trouble. They caught him. I don't know how the hell he got out there, but he saved my ass just now.”

“What?!” The whole team gasped in unison.

Song sprang up, eyes on the door, which Trick could open. “We have to go after him! Get everyone else up!”

“You're insane!” Trick grabbed her wrist, turning her to face him with difficulty. “Look. I nearly got caught, your Five saved me, got the guard's attention instead. They had him cornered, last I saw. He's done for, alright? I wanted to warn the rest of you. My 'thank you' to your friend. I didn't do it so you could all run out and do something to stupid for words. What can you do to hide your work when the guards come?”

“Hide our work?” Song mumbled, her lips barely moving. Her mind was a blur, as if someone had shaken her too hard and everything was muddled. Five killed by guards? That couldn't be possible. He'd find some way-

“Please!” The voice that woke Song from her trance was Septimus. “Song. Get the dagger out of the door! Get rid of it! Do it before the guards get here to question us!”

Song's feet were moving before she realized what she was doing. She darted across the room, tripping and hardly noticing, Trick on her heels. She yanked the door to the shower hall open, staring into the gloom. She and her people could leave now. Retreat into that hallway and make for the ships Five had told them of. Except Five... he wasn't with them, and he couldn't be dead. It was impossible. “Dagger!” she nodded towards the little, metal object as she held the door.

Trick squatted and, with some difficulty, yanked the wedged dagger from the doorjamb. “Now what? You can't be caught with this. They'd kill you.” He held the dagger between himself and Song as though he handled a live grenade.

With a a loss that cut so deep Song felt it in her core, she let the door snap shut. The gateway to escape closed with finality. She might as well had stuck her head in there and let the door close on it. Her eyes snapped to the dagger, uncertain. “What do we do?” she asked the rest of her team, her voice wavering.

“Flush it.” Brute's words were a command. “It's small enough, it should go down. Might cause a clog later, but you need to survive tonight.”

Song ran. She skidded to a stop, grasping the doorway of their little washroom to catch herself. She threw the dagger into the toilet and flushed. It clattered noisily against the stainless steel, but vanished, point first, into the abyss from whence it could never return.

“Good. Now I have to go,” said Trick. “Your buddy saved me, I need to not waste that.” He darted towards the door.

“Wait!” Song caught him with her voice. “Reactivate my cuffs. When they get in here I want us all to look normal.”

“No. Deactivate all our cuffs,” snarled Cale. “If we can't escape we can go out fighting.”

“We can still escape.” Rae's voice was pitched high with fear. “If we fight now they'll kill us and then what's the point? What was the point of any of it?”

“My cuffs,” Song asserted, placing her wrists together and holding them towards the salarian intruder. Trick did as he was asked and Song felt the tug as they magnetized again. “Thank you, Trick.” She looked into the salarian's large, dark eyes.

“Good luck, Yellow.”

Trick escaped by way of the shower door just as Yellow Team heard footsteps, lots of them, approaching at the front of their room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to do this to you, leaving everything on such a cliff hanger, but I might not be able to get you a chapter next monday. We'll have to see. If I fail, look for a new chapter the monday after for sure!
> 
> Until then, feel free to speculate on what what become of our beloved friends!


	26. Tortured Souls

Chapter 26  
Tortured Souls

The door opened again, bathing the room in a wash of harsh light from the corridor beyond. Silhouetted against the backdrop of white walls and sterility stood the expected guards and at least one muu. It was difficult to make out from where Song had positioned herself. Her wrists already burned as she unconsciously pulled against her bonds. Her muscles hardened as her fight response roared to life and she almost wished she'd done as the others wanted and opened all their cuffs instead.

The clicking of the muu's feet against the floor was like the ticking of an ominous clock. She stopped when she stood in the middle of the living section of their room. She turned, wordlessly signaling the guards, who moved in, batons drawn, faces grim. Song noticed that neither Mordo nor Ebb were with them. Possibly because they were day shift, possibly because they didn't posses the brutality required for what these guards were about to do.

“Be careful of the krogan,” The muu hissed as a guard bent over Song and grabbed her bound hands, yanking her to her unsteady, hobbled feet before tossing her onto her bed, face down.

Song twisted, getting a mouthful of blankets as she tried to see what was going on. The muu stood imperious, hands clasped, eying Yellow Team as though they were insects she had found crawling out of a drain. She was about to swat them all, one by one.

Brute snarled.

Song kicked and managed to turn herself just in time for three guards and snap a muzzle over Brute's face and magnetize his hands behind him and against the wall. For the moment, Brute tolerated this, though Song could see the rage building behind his sightless eyes. She suspected he'd go as far as braking his own limbs to murder these guards if it came down to it. He was behaving himself... for her? Because she had told he team not to attack. Icy fear began to climb through Song's veins in earnest. She'd given them all the wrong orders. Now they would all pay.

“Now then.” The muu finally addressed the team. “I'm certain you are aware that one of your people is not present in this room. Don't bother acting shocked. We all know your entire team is in on this little plan. We have tortured your salarian and he has told us everything, so all that is left is to... speak to all of your about your transgression.”

“You bitch!” Unsurprisingly the first to break was Rae. Song could only watch as the little drell launched herself, hobbled as she was, towards the muu, cuffed hands outstretched to go around their captor's throat.

She made it surprisingly far before the muu's biotics caught her and slammed her to the floor where a guard immediately knelt on her back. Song grimaced as she heard Rae cough and fight for air.

“Your salarian made it impressively far, I must say. We found him lurking around near the weapons room, trying to figure out how to get in. He must be very clever to have sneaked past all the guards on his way there. Not that it matters now.” The muu turned large, slitted eyes on Song. “We know you're the leader of this group, and you have all been getting too confident. We need to put an end to that. Yellow Team belongs on the bottom. The bottom in the arena and the bottom in life. So, leader, who would you like to see tortured first?”

Song heard Septimus hiss in a breath and Brute shifted beside her on his bed. Song pushed herself to a kneeling position, raising her chin and using all her skill to force her features into what she dearly hoped was a look of absolute defiance. “How did he do it?”

“What?” The muu asked, clearly surprised by this response.

“How did Five, our salarian, get out? How'd he do it?”

The muu's eyes narrowed, thin lips drawing even tighter. “That hardly matters now.”

“You don't know, do you? He didn't tell you.” Song quirked her lip in a smile.

The muu's hands trembled, if only for the barest moment. Rage? Frustration? Song's heart pounded with a victory tattoo, however briefly, as she settled her unwavering gaze on the muu's. It felt nearly as good as plunging her polearm into the muu's flesh. Nearly.

Biotics sparked as the muu reached out with her power, at first caressing its way around Song's body like a curious touch, before lighting on her bound hands. For a moment there was nothing but a faint warmth and static prickle. Then, with a sick crack, Song's wrist snapped. The pain was immediate and almost overwhelming. Song let out a sound that was half roar, half scream as her hand was bent in a direction it was decidedly not meant to go. She fought back the urge to vomit as she looked at her hand, now limp and useless. It took everything she had to remain upright, still facing the muu as she choked in ragged breaths.

“SONG!” Gasp Cale, watching her from across the room, revulsion and hate written on his features as he looked to the muu.

Beside her Brute stirred again, though perhaps he sensed that she was stronger than this pain. Song felt his sympathy, if not his anger. All she heard from Septimus was a sharp intake of breath. Had he seen teams tortured before?

“All of Yellow Team has made some questionable choices. Not only in friendships, but in leadership. Tonight, we break you. Then, in the arena, we bury you.”

The biotics built around Song and forced her over, toppling her to her side where she landed with a grunt, head lolling off the edge of her bed. Her wrist was white hot with agony and she battled to keep up herself from screaming again. She let her face fall into the mask she wore all her life. The unsettling, emotionless look that masters liked when she was going about her day, but she could tell was not as well received now. This game maker wanted to see pain, or sadness, or fear. She would not receive it.

“Start with the turian,” the muu snapped, dragging her eyes from Song's and flicking them up to look at Septimus.

Song gritted her teeth. The game makers had guessed that she and Septimus meant something to each other. The turian was dragged from his bed. He remained as silent as Song, his eyes sharp as his arrows. At the last second before he was forced to kneel before the muu, he bit the wrist of one of the guards that held him. He was jabbed on the neck with a baton for his trouble, but Song, who had managed to pull herself all the way back onto her bed, watched with satisfaction as a thick rivulet of blood gushed down the batarian's arm.

Three guards prodded Septimus with batons, the muu presiding over the scene like a twisted version of a parent overseeing the disciplining of a child. “Just out of curiosity...” The muu purred, “how do you think your salarian friend got free?”

Septimus spat a mixture of his own blood and the batarian guard's on the floor. He said nothing. The muu clucked her tongue as though mildly annoyed, then signaled the guards to get back to their torture.

At first Septimus managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his eyes fierce and unyielding. Eventually, however, he did cry out. The sound ripped Song's chest open and clawed at her insides. When it faded into gasping sobs she wanted to throw herself from her bed and crawl over to the muu. What she would do when she got there was anyone's guess, but it didn't matter.

The game maker turned, casting a victorious gaze over to Yellow's leader. Song hastily schooled her features back into place, but it was too late. The muu had seen.

When Septimus was hanging limp as a rag doll between his guards, his breath coming in cruel hitches and gasps, they finally tossed him back onto his bed. He let out a little groan, then fell silent.

Beside her Brute growled low, a rumble that shook the room, down to Song's bones. She could see his muscles tightening and when she looked up at his face she could easily imagine a warrior behemoth rending heads from shoulders in the arena. She unconsciously leaned away from him.

The game maker looked at Song again, gauging her response. This time she was ready with her blank, reaction-less stare. The muu's lip twitched faintly. Song doubted anyone but she would notice. The muu gestured towards Cale, not taking her eyes from Song's. “The human next.”

The guards grasped Cale, who struggled. Unlike Septimus, who waited for a subtle chance to attack, Cale writhed, twice breaking his guards' grip and managing a head butt to the human guard's nose, and to elbow another hard in the ribs. Finally he was forced to his knees before the muu. She tilted her head to stare balefully down at him. “You've always been defiant, haven't you? Always a problem. Perhaps you're the bad fruit that poisoned the whole bunch.”

Cale spat at her feet.

The muu didn't seem to notice. Perhaps people spat at her all the time. Song tried to reassure herself as she watched the guards hold her friend down, that Cale was tough. Cale could take a beating and come out swinging. She watched the batons spark with deadly electricity and almost flinched, catching herself at the last moment to keep her entire being as seemingly emotionless as possible.

“So, human, you've been friends with that salarian the longest. How did he manage to get out? The door hasn't been rewired. We see no evidence of tampering. Did he manage to steal a guard's armband?”

“He can transform himself into shadows and he slipped right out under the door.” Cale's smile flashed. A beacon of rebellion. He wasn't able to keep himself from gasping as the first shock landed on his ribs. He curled against it, teeth bared in a rictus version of his previous grin.

Song ached to close her eyes. To look away. To cower and curl into a ball around her throbbing wrist; or perhaps to transform a wild creature of death and fly at them, breaking their bones instead. It took all her will, and shreds of will she didn't know she had, to keep her eyes locked on the scene. She knew the muu wanted to see emotion from her. Craved it, even. To break Song the game maker planned to torture every one of her people in front of her. Inside Song was shattering into a thousand pieces like glass dust, as the guards sent their batons crashing against Cale's unprotected body. Outwardly she was stone. The warrior in her railed, shouting to be set free, but the woman who knew better, who knew how to not give this vicious slave master what she wanted, was winning out. At least for the moment.

'Five is dead. My friends will be tortured to the point of death. Let it wash over you and flow away because none of it matters.' She told herself this over and over as she ground her teeth so hard her jaw twinged with needles of pain.

Cale passed out sooner than Septimus. He slumped to the floor where one guard kicked him for good measure. Song surreptitiously checked that he was still breathing as the guard tossed his limp form onto his bed with a grunt of effort.

“My turn?” Rae lifted her chin. Her eyes were shining with tears, but her mouth was set in a determined line.

Song's heart clenched as though someone had grabbed it in their fist. She hadn't expected to be more distressed over Rae's torture. She'd known it was coming. They were all going to face it. When the muu had finished trying to milk an emotional response out of Song she'd face her punishment as well. Perhaps she'd be killed. Behead Yellow Team for their attempt at freedom.

Beside her Song heard the groan of metal pushed to its breaking point. She cut a glance towards Brute. His lips were drawn in a fearsome snarl and his pale eyes were wild and bulging. His wrists where they were cuffed, were bleeding in slow, almost lazy trickles down his hands. Part of her wondered which would give first. The cuffs or his bones. Maybe it didn't matter. Something was going to break and she only hoped she'd be out of the way when it happened.

Rae was forced to her knees, but not before she too had managed to get in her licks. The guards were looking a bit scruffy now, and thoroughly tired of dealing with Yellow. Perhaps even Red Team was more predictable, where as every member of Yellow fought in a different way, causing bruises and bleeding whenever they made contact. Song doubted the game makers had muzzles that would fit a drell.

The muu didn't even both to ask Rae how Five had made his escpae. The first baton strike was to Rae's neck. The game maker turned to check Song's reaction. She should have been looking at Brute.

When Rae let out a little half-cry half-gurgle as the baton landed against her ribs, the krogan exploded to life. The cuffs gave. Metal and bits of tech splintered everywhere as Brute surged away from the wall and leaped from his bed, landing bodily on one of the guards. Song ducked to the side as a shard of what had been her friend's cuffs clipped her cheek.

Brute wasted no time. He grabbed anything within reach and Song heard bones breaking as the guards screamed, trying to rally around the muu. Batons sparked, but it was as though Brute didn't feel them as he smashed his hulking body into another guard, crushing the batarian against one of the beds. When Brute removed his weight from the man, the guard slid limply to the floor.

Rae, who was still conscious enough to function, scooted away from the fray as best she could. There was a very real chance that she'd be stepped on, her own bones snapping like twigs under Brute's huge feet.

The muu's biotics sparked and blue light wrapped itself around Brute. For a long moment it only slowed him down. The muu's face twitched with frustration as the krogan battled on as though through a heavy wind. He smashed his muzzled head into another guard, ignoring the blows he took from there batons, or the times he nearly went sprawling as he tripped over a bed. The fight was both clumsy and brutal.

Finally the muu biotics managed to find purchase and Brute was lifted off the ground. The guards encircled him, jabbing with batons like stinging bees.

Song, who was dangerously close to tipping off her bed again, managed to push herself back on, though she tweaked her broken wrist and had to bite down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood to keep herself from screaming. She hastily searched out Rae and saw that she had crawled under a bed and was watching like a cornered prey animal.

One of the guards, a turian with thick scars across his grey, muscled body, grabbed Brute's muzzle and pulled the hovering krogan's face closed to his. “This is it, Grandpa. You're dead this time!” He jammed his baton hard into the hollow of Brute's throat. Song heard Brute choke, the muscles spasming so he couldn't swallow. Couldn't breath. Everything in her begged to shout 'STOP! PLEASE!' but she knew it wouldn't do an ounce of good.

The muu watched through slitted eyes with what Song knew was satisfaction, though to the others the alien's face would have been as unreadable as Song's. Tears stung in Song's eyes. It was all she could do. The only reaction she could have. She couldn't save Brute. She could flop like the useless sack of meat that she was, onto the floor, towards her friend, but that wouldn't do him any good. They should have fought. They should have tried their luck against the guards when they had first come in. She'd been too worried about tipping their hand. About showing that they could deactivate their cuffs. Now Brute was going to die for it. Song slumped in her bed.

“Alright.” The muu spoke and Song's head snapped up to squint at the game maker. “That will do for now.”

The turian guard's mandibles twitched in obvious frustration, but he withdrew, baton still sparking. Brute sagged for a long moment, not breathing. Too late. The muu had stopped him too late. Then the krogan took a great, gasping, rasping breath. He coughed blood, the droplets caught in the biotic field. Suspended like crimson beads.

“I only wished to punish Yellow Team. So they would learn. Their deaths should be saved for the arena where it can offer some entertainment.” The muu's lip curled faintly in a micro-expression of disgust.

Song's heart turned to a lump of ice as the muu began to move towards the door, still holding Brute suspended in the air. The guards filtered out around the game maker, shooting dark, deadly glances at what remained of Yellow Team. Song met each guard's eyes as they passed over her, though none of them seemed to focus on her. Perhaps she was nothing but a rock, an uninteresting lump of dirt to them. She gritted her teeth. Her wrist pulsed with every beat of her ice-heart. If only she could break her bonds the way that Brute had she would leap up, broken limb be damned, and strangle the muu where she stood.

“Post guards at both doors.” The game maker said as she turned, giving Yellow Team one more imperious looking over. “They may be beaten, but this team is used to that. No doubt they will try something ill advised, like their salarian friend.”

Finally the muu and her entourage of torturers left the room, the door snapping shut behind them with dire finality. Brute crashed to the floor, catching a leg on a bed and send it toppling. Song managed to get herself upright in time for the krogan to let out another roar, this one strained and raw. He lashed out, striking at beds, nearly ripping one of the tables from the floor as he battled on against imagined guards.

“Brute!” Song squeaked, her own voice high with pain. The krogan was dangerously close to where Septimus lay, limp on his bed.

Brute didn't seem to hear her. Instead he snarled again and continued his path of destruction, sending anything within reach smashing against the walls.

“I've got your cuffs!”

Song turned, startled to hear Rae's voice behind her, raspy after her encounter with a stun baton. The little drell had belly-crawled from under her bed and slithered with surprising speed to Song's side of the room. Song dangled her legs off her bed, twisting her body to watch in horror as Brute's rampage sent him slamming into Septimus' bed. The turian was jostled, but didn't go flying. Yet.

“There!” Rae announced proudly as Song felt the cuffs at her ankles give. She could walk at last. “Your hands?” Rae had levered herself into a sitting position, her own wrists and ankles still cuffed as she worked to free Song.

“No. This is fine.” Song gritting her teeth as her wrist gave another pounding throb that she felt all the way up her shoulder and into her chest. She bit back a scream of hurt and frustration as she got to her feet and charged towards Brute. This was possibly one of her worst ideas yet, she realized as she was faced with the blind, enraged giant. But what choice did she have?

“Brute!” No reaction. “Brute! They're gone! You need to calm down!”

Brute turned, his elbow colliding with Song's chest, sending her lurching backwards. She staggered, but managed to stay on her feet. He loomed above her, a statue of death itself. His breathing reminded Song of a wild, charging sak-beast from back home. They would gore an unwary hunter with their tusks in seconds. She swallowed, taking a shaky step backward.

“Brute! C'mon.” It was Rae, her strained, little voice joining Song's. She'd freed her own legs and hurried over. “It's us! It's Song and Little Sister!”

Brute let out a huff of air, lips still drawn back in a snarl. He was splattered with his own blood as his clothing was torn in several places. He looked to utterly wild. So unlike the gentle, well spoken person who shared their home. “Brute...” Song tried again, gentler this time. At least he had stopped moving for the moment, even if he was about to slaughter them both. “Brute, they're gone. The guards are gone. It's just us. It's me. Song.” She reached out, her bound hands shaking, her wrist already swelling painfully against her cuff and turning deep purple, showing even against her dark skin. With her good hand she took one of Brute's and haltingly set it on her shoulder, feeling the familiar weight at the same time she envisioned that hand moving to wrap around her throat and snap her neck.

Brute's blood, still spilling freely from his mangled wrists where he had broken his cuffs, slid in a slim trail down Song's collarbone. He exhaled again, this time more calmly. His eyes, though still milky and sightless as ever, drifted down as though trying to take her in. His other hand stretched out and Rae darted forward, reached up and guiding the hand to rest on the top of her head.

“Alright?” Song asked, her voice hitching. “Brute?”

“Alright.” His voice was a hiss. Ragged and ruined as Song felt. She began to back up, guiding him while looking up into his wide, scarred face. When she reached his bed, Rae following along, Brute's hand still resting on her head, Song eased the giant down to sit.

“Rae.” Song held out her wrists to the drell. She bit down hard on the already marred inside of her cheek as Rae worked on her wrist cuffs, deactivating them.

“Sorry,” Rae said as she worked. “Five could probably do this faster-” Her words cut off as though someone had stolen what remained of her voice and her eyes filled again with tears, this time sliding freely down her cheeks.

“We don't know he's dead,” Song said, uncertain where these words were coming from. Not from her, the stoic realist. Perhaps it was because Cale was still unconscious and someone needed to be the foolish voice of optimism. “We... we just don't know.”

Rae swallowed, choking back her tears, her expression growing fiercer by the second. “If they killed him... I'll kill them. Those mother fucking muu won't know what hit them. I don't care if I have to use my teeth.”

Song let out a sound that had intended to be a laugh, but was far too choked. Her own eyes were dry, but perhaps that was because she was dancing on the edge of shock, and energy couldn't be wasted for tears.

Finally her hands were free. She cradled her broken wrist to her chest and used her other hand to reach up and unbuckle the muzzle from Brute's face, sliding it away to clatter to the floor.

Brute's hand moved from her shoulder to her back and before Song knew what was happening she was being hugged. Her head nested against Brute's hard, muscled chest. It was awkward, and painful, and she didn't care. She closed her eyes and let the hug go on as long as Brute wanted. The smell of his sweat and blood mingled with hers and she felt bizarrely safe, if only for that moment. Finally Brute let her go and she winced as her wrist sent another blade of pain up her arm, but she did her best to ignore it. “Are you alright?” she asked Brute. “I need to check on the others.”

Brute nodded. Song suspected his throat was still painful after what the guards had done to him. She glanced at Rae, who's hands were remained cuffed. She wasn't able to free her own wrists. “It's fine,” she waved Song's concern away. “Later I'll walk you through how to do it. Until then, I'll check Cale, you go see lover boy.” Though there were still tears leaving long streaks down Rae's face, she still managed an approximation of a sassy smirk.

Song shook her head in mock annoyance as she made her way over to where Spetimus lay, a heap of rumpled clothing and long limbs.

She half sat, half collapsed onto the bed beside the turian. His breathing seemed even enough. He wasn't gasping, or drawing in short, hitched breaths. Song touched his shoulder with her good hand, squeezing the boney plate she found there. “Septimus?”

He jerked, as though startled from a dream, one green eye flashing into her view. His mandibles spread as he recognized her. “Are they gone?”

“Yeah. For the moment.” Song sighed, letting her clenched jaw relax fractionally.

Septimus pushed himself to his elbows with a wince, looking around. “They trashed the room?”

“No. Brute did that. You should have seen him! He got loose and beat the shit out of some guards” Song decided not to mention the part where their gigantic friend had nearly sent an unconscious Septimus crashing from his bed.

“How's everyone else?”

“Surviving,” Song shrugged, her wrist rewarding her with a fresh stab of bone aching pain. She knew it showed on her face, no matter how she tried to hide it.

Septimus sat up further, managing to tuck his long legs under him with great effort. He held out his cuffed hands to Song and it took her a moment to understand that he wanted to look at her wrist. She set her hand gingerly in his as though her broken limb was made of glass. Even that little motion sent new jolts of pain to her elbow and even up her shoulder. She gritted her teeth.

Septimus clucked his tongue in either annoyance or sympathy, it was difficult to tell. “I suppose I should be grateful all they did was break your wrist. With you being the leader, they might have done so much more.”

“They might have been planning it,” Song pointed out. “Then Brute scared them off. Not that they'll ever admit that. I think he rattled them just enough that the muu took the guards out before they actually killed any of us.”

“Rattled guards is never good.” Septimus agreed. “Give someone a weapon and then get them good and scared... they'll kill. No two ways about it.”

“I suppose that's how the arena works- OW!”

“Sorry.” Septimus was gently exploring the fine bones of Song's rapidly swelling wrist. “I wish this cuff wasn't there. It's going to hurt like crazy as your wrist swells up around it.”

“Great.”

“I think two bones are broken.” The turian sigh. “Best I can tell. Human and turian wrists are fairly similar, aside from our having fewer fingers, which changes a few details.” Though his words were breathy, as though the act of holding her hand and speaking had worn him out, Septimus continued to work. He tore one of the belts from his shirt, buckling it in a loop and putting it over Song's head. Then he helped her rest her arm inside it as a makeshift sling. “We should immobilize the arm.” He mused.

Cale groaned loudly from his bed. Song looked over. Rae was sitting beside the human, who flailed weakly for a moment before grumbling, “did someone run me over with a mako?”

“Even better.” Rae assured him as she patted his arm, which was about the extent of a display of kindness Cale was going to get from the little drell.

Song shook her head, not sure what a mako was, but assuming it was some kind of vehicle, or perhaps an animal. She turned back to Septimus, who was watching her with such sweet tenderness in his eyes that she felt her lip quiver. Quickly she swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't have time to feel sorry for herself. She needed to see to her people and they'd want a new plan. A new plan... her chest tightened to a cold knot. Without the dagger in the door they had no exit. Without Five they had no scout. Did they wait for guards to come and try to fight their way out? How long would it take everyone to recover from their injuries?

“Hey. Come back to me.” Septimus touched Song's chin, guiding her face up to his. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, drawing her back to the moment.

“Sorry,” Song shook her head, blinking to force down the threatening tears. She couldn't have told anyone exactly why she wanted to cry, but there were so many good reasons. Perhaps all of them together were worth a good sob, but she didn't have time for that.

What was she supposed to do exactly? What was a leader supposed to do in a situation like this? She looked into Septimus' shining, emerald eyes and saw not only trust, but a determination she had not expected. Could it be that somehow he wasn't been broken by the experience? Was it possible she was?

Everyone nearly jumped out of their skin when the door to their barracks snapped open again. Song spun, eyes wide. She had just enough conscious reaction to bring her good wrist up to meet her injured one, the useless cuffs clacking together; and to do the same with her ankles.

A new guard stood in the doorway and it took her a moment to realize that it was Ric. He took in the room with a quick glance, then rushed to Cale's bed. He didn't even seem to notice that Rae's feet had been free as she hurried to pretend they were still locked together. She scrambled from Cale's bed and threw herself clumsily onto her own, but the show was lost on Ric, who knelt beside Cale, reaching up to tenderly caress the other man's cheek.

“I heard what happened! Are you alright?” Ric asked, concern etched over his plain features.

Song saw Cale's shoulders stiffen, even in the dim light provided by the steadily glowing tables.

“I know you couldn't have had anything to do with what that salarian was up to. You probably didn't even know.” Ric was talking quickly, ignoring everyone else. “I hate when they punish slaves for no reason like that. I came as soon as I heard.”

Song's lip curled, her tears gone and forgotten for the moment. She whispered to Septimus, “I think he only hates it when they torture someone he wants to sleep with.”

Ric stood and plopped himself down beside Cale on the bed, still fussing over him. He lifted Cale's head to fluff his pillow, and arranged his blankets. Then he settled his hand on Cale's chest and leaned in, obviously intent on a kiss.

“Stop.” Cale's voice was stronger than Song expected after the punishment he'd taken.

Ric leaned back, blinking confusedly. Cale inhaled a determined breath and went on. “Ric... I'm married. I have a husband, and I love him... so much. I miss him. I've been lying to you by hiding that and letting you think I'm available to you. I'm not.” His tone was fierce, dramatic. “You need to stop. We need to stop. I can never be what you want me to be and I'm done trying. Leave me alone.”

Ric looked staggered. As though Cale had punched him directly in the nose. The rest of the team too sat in stunned silence. Song wasn't even certain she was breathing.

“You...” Ric managed, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. He got to his feet and took two clumsy steps backwards. “I should have known. A disgusting slave shit like you would lie. You don't even know what love is, let alone how to express it.” He folded his arms, trying for confidence and failing. “All I wanted from you was a little fun. A little flirt here and there. That's all you were. Now that I can see what kind of refuse you really are I wouldn't touch you with gloves on.” He drew his baton.

Song nearly sprang to her feet, but Septimus held her back. “You're legs are supposed to be cuffed,” the turian reminded her between clenched teeth.

“You and your entire team deserves what you get.” Ric spat. He smacked his baton against the leg of Cale's bed, making everyone jump. Ric's eyes were bright with wrath and pain and Song wondered if Cale had just sealed his own fate. She resolved that if Ric tried to harm Cale she'd step in, cuffed legs be damned.

“I had to bribe my way in to see you and this is how you replay me back, you shit?” Ric snarled. Song took in the deadly set of his shoulders. She had seen him leap into the fray during many a dining hall scuffle with just that look. The baton in his hand sparked. He gestured with his thumb to a little dial on the side of the electrified cylinder. “I should set this to krogan and see how long it takes you to cook.”

Cale flinched away at Ric's words. There was nothing of the bored, friendly guard in the shorter man's face now.

Outside, someone tapped on the door and Ric's head snapped in that direction for a split second. He must have had an accomplice keeping watch, letting him know his time was running out. Ric's eyes flicked back to Cale with a glare so deadly Song felt the heat of it from across the room.

Ric rattled his baton against the bed-frame again, an almost manic smile appearing at the corners of his lips, though it never reached his eyes. “We all have orders not to kill you. The game makers have better plans for you.” Ric's face twisted into a full grin that was as friendly as a corpse. “I'll see you in the games,” he hissed before sheathing his baton and turning. In seconds the door slipped open and closed again and he was gone.

Everyone let out the breath they had collectively been holding. No one spoke for a long moment, just stared at one another as though they'd been dropped into some unfamilar world and weren't even certain if they knew one another. Song was glad of Septimus' hand on her shoulder, grounding her against the hurricane wind of despair.

Cale began crying. Dry, painful sobs that stabbed into Song's chest as well as any arrow. She stood, Septimus letting her go at last. She crossed the room slowly and sat down on the floor beside Cale's bed, leaning against the wall. She reached up with her uninjured hand and clasped one of his.

“I'm sorry,” he said, face half buried in his pillow. “I ruined the last hope we had. The last ally we h-had.” He was overtaken by his sorrow again.

“It had to happen eventually,” Song said, though she wasn't certain. Nothing was certain. She looked around at her people. Brute was slumped on his bed, dead to the world, though he still breathed. Perhaps his longing for an end to his suffering was renewed tenfold now. Rae's eyes were large and hollow. Song wondered if dark memories were clawing at her mind, or perhaps there was no moment darker than this.

“We're fucked.” Cale choked. “No way out. I'll never see the stars again. I'll never hold Luke-”

“Ssssshhhh,” Song squeezed his hand, unable to form words. Her own visions of sailing through the inky black, free to do whatever she wanted; to see worlds she had never even imagined or dreamed, were snatched away too. Yet, like the memories of a fallen friend, they resurfaced, cloying, torturing.

Rae began crying next. Little sounds. Squeaks more than anything, as she turned away and curled up into a ball, back to Song and Cale.

“I wish we could kill them. Those fuckers who murdered Five.” Cale growled between clenched teeth, hand almost too tight around Song's now.

“We don't know he's dead,” she said automatically. It was oddly frustrating how her mind refused let her imagine him beaten to death in some corridor. As though he wasn't truly dead until she saw a body. Her jaw clenched. He wasn't. He wasn't dead until the muu proved it to her. She opened her mouth to say this to Cale, but only a sob came out.

They were a mess. Injured, heartbroken, hopeless. Couldn't the muu have just put them out of their misery? Song's wrist gave another stab and she wiped her damp cheek on her shoulder.

“So...” It was Septimus who spoke. Song looked up to catch the glint of his eyes in the dimness. Twin points of green fire. “Time for a new plan.”

 

~~~~~

So I did one of those aesthetic things that some authors do for their characters. Interesting project. This one's for Song. Let me know if you'd like to see others :)  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeeah... so I kinda tortured the hell out of our beloved characters. Sorry (not sorry). Is Five alive or dead? It's Schrodinger's salarian over here! What are our friends going to do now? All beat up, no way out, Cale went and broke it off with Ric! This doesn't look good!


	27. Life or Death

Chapter 27  
Life or Death

 

The plan for that evening seemed to be sleep. Everyone was too exhausted and beaten down to do anything else. Song wished she could curl up Cale's bed, but she decided to retreat to her own. Not long after she got there Rae moved through the group, deactivating the rest of their cuffs. No one stopped her. Maybe they were all secretly hoping that the guards would come back, and this time they'd end it. When she got to Song she instructed the human how to deal with hers, finally freeing the drell's hands.

Song ground her teeth as she tried to find some way to lay that didn't make her arm throb unbearably. She glanced at the huddled heap in the darkness beside her that was Brute. She could just make out the steady rise and fall of his breath and wondered if he was dreaming of dying. She imagined her own end at the hands of some over zealous-guard. She saw the muu standing over her, eyes glinting with sadistic glee. No. She didn't want to die, not even now, not even when it seemed like they were screwed well beyond their capacity to rally from. The warrior inside her blazed, railing against this treatment, swearing to skewer the next muu that came into range of her polearm, no matter what it cost.

Someone cleared their throat. Song looked up. Septimus was standing over her, hand pressed against his ribs, which obviously hurt. His expression was guarded, but filled with that sweet shyness she loved in him. “Can I... I mean... may I?” he asked, mandibles tight to his jaw.

Song scooted over as far as she could, wincing as pain seared up her arm with each motion. Septimus had brought his pillow over so he could prop himself to sleep more upright beside her. Song lifted her blanket and welcomed him in.

It took some arranging to tuck themselves in together on a bed meant for one person. Especially as Septimus was not small and had quite a few sharp edges. Song had the issue of her wrist, and no position seemed to satisfy it. They finally settled in with Septimus wrapped around her as she lay on her good side, her injured arm propped so it at least wouldn't make her cry in her sleep.

Sleep came, much to Song's surprise. Black, blank, dreamless sleep that was all she could have asked for after the night they had. She hoped her friends all received such a blessing.

As she blinked awake the next morning when the lights snapped on, she was still tucked warmly in Septimus' arms and for a moment she imagined a world where she could stay like that all morning. Lazily enjoying the company of her lover. They cuddled in a soft bed that fit them both. Beside them, a spanning window looked out on a swirling purple galaxy, familiar in its majesty. They would wake for breakfast whenever they felt like it. She let herself wallow in that imagined life for a moment before her mind surfaced back to the one in which she lived. If 'lived' was even the right word for it any more.

Everyone woke with slow movements and groaning. Song painfully, disentangled herself from Septimus' arms. She saw him grimace, though he tried to hide it. His battered muscles had obviously stiffened during the night. He eased himself to the edge of her bed, back to back with her, gingerly flexing his limbs. She could feel his breath hitching when she pressed her shoulder blades to his.

Song's wrist the swollen around her cuff, just as Septimus had predicted. It felt like she was holding it into an open flame and every moment was a struggle not to whimper pathetically.

She got to her feet and instinctively retreated to the washroom to run her wrist under the cold water tap. Once she began she wished she could stand by the sink all day. It was the closest to relief she had gotten and she nearly melted into the floor.

None of them thought to reactivate their cuffs before the guards came for them. Mordo and Ebb stood in the doorway, curious expressions on their faces. Song panicked as he stood before the sink, very obviously free to move about. Her muscles tensed, ready for the most ill advised fight of her life.

Neither Mordo nor Ebb seemed to notice anything amiss. Instead, the turian stepped hesitnantly into the room. He looked at Brute, raising his chin. “I was told you needed new cuffs, big guy.”

Brute didn't verbally respond, but held out his wrists, bruised and crusted with dried blood. Mordo, mandibles pressed tight to either side of his jaw, crossed to the krogan and snapped the fresh cuffs in place. He glanced around, obviously unnerved by the silently watchful Yellow Team. Had neither of their day guards been told about Yellow's transgression? Did Mordo or Ebb have any details other than the fact that the small team might be a bit poorly and missing a member when it was time for breakfast that morning? Song suspected not, as she studied Ebb's four eyes. They flicked around the room as though trying to piece together a puzzle that did not have all its components. Surely the guard rumor mill would be churning at full speed after this.

“Let's go. Breakfast.” Ebb said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder once his turian companion returned to his side.

Song shuffled to join the others, eying their two guards curiously. Mordo looked over the sorry bunch and clucked his tongue. Song wasn't certain if it was disgust, or perhaps a strange shred of sympathy. She couldn't read it on his face. He gestured to the door and didn't draw his baton when Yellow Team moved slowly.

Brute's hand landed on Song's shoulder and she hardly noticed, it was so natural. As they shuffled to join the stream of slaves heading for breakfast, she tilted her head towards the krogan. “Alright?”

Brute didn't answer. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, but that was all she got. She swallowed, knowing that this wasn't a good day for her friend. As always she wished she could lift some of the sadness from his broad shoulders, but knew she never could. Instead she led him with added diligence, not letting so much as a stray elbow bump him, even if it meant more pain for her as someone jostled her injured arm.

Grey Team came up beside Yellow and Song little noticed until she she caught sight of familiar green skin. Trick was eying up what remained to Yellow. She wondered if he had expected them to be killed. His expression revealed little, though when she flicked her eyes up to meet his for a moment, she thought she caught a nod of respect. Respect from a salarian? Perhaps it was thanks, for what Five had done.

Five. Five who wasn't walking to breakfast with them. She had thought she might see him on another team... had hoped. Maybe the muu would transfer him, deciding he was too dangerous where he was. She saw no familiar smiles among Grey Team and as she glanced around she knew he wasn't walking with anyone else either. Her breath hitched and she nearly led Brute right into the dining hall's door-frame. Cursing quietly she corrected her path, forcing her mind back to the task at hand. Get a meal without getting beat up.

When Red Team came to collect Brute they must have sensed his mood. One youngish krogan with a scar that ran from his eye down over his lips to his chin, gave Song a questioning look, taking in Yellow Team's injuries. He seemed to decide they must have come by them in some act of defiance because he too gave Song a little nod. This was a strange day to be nodded at in respect by both salarian and krogan. She idly cast her gaze over the turian and human teams, but received no such recognition. She might have smiled at herself, if she had thought she would ever be able to smile again.

The breakfast line was hellish. Ric was there, hovering in the wings. He never acted himself, but seemed to have recruited several guards to his cause. They swept in at regular intervals to claim that a member of Yellow Team had done something inappropriate. Before long batons were out, bright flashes of electricity in the corner of Song's eye. She kept her slave's mask firmly in place and was glad Cale was seemingly too sore to do anything but shuffle behind her in line. Rae, on the other hand, acted out almost immediately and Septimus had to step in, receiving a zap for his trouble.

Red was late depositing Brute in his spot and setting his tray before him. Song suspected they had been trying to find out exactly why Yellow looked as though they'd been used as someone's personal punching bags. Brute didn't seem to have improved from the dejected figure who walked automatically beside Song that morning. The krogan who dropped him off looked both disappointed and concerned, as much as concern should show on their craggy features.

Song looked down at her food finding it deeply unappetizing. Her heartbeat pounded in her throbbing wrist and her eyes watered, but she raised her head stubbornly and looked over her team.

She wanted to assure them it would be alright. That they'd had the shit kicked out of them many times before and it had been alright. That was her job wasn't it? As leader? To put them back together when the muu ripped them to shreds? What if she never had the right words?

She glanced at Cale. He'd know what to say to cheer everyone. Except his head was hung as low as Brute's, his eyes bruised and puffy, his signature smile erased as if it had never been. Once she had wondered what could ever break irrepressible Cale. Was this it? Her heart stuttered and she inhaled deeply to calm her sparking nerves. She couldn't do this without Cale. It was going to be hard enough without Five.

And just like that she was crying silently into her breakfast.

~~~~~

With food barely touched Yellow Team rose from their seats and made their shuffling way back home. 

Safely tucked in their barracks Song retreated to the washroom and the temporary relief of the cold water tap. She almost groaned aloud as the liquid cascaded over her wrist, so bruised with mottled purple it was almost black. A little trickle of blood slipped from where the now too tight cuff was cutting into her.

For a long time no one said anything, or so much as moved from their beds. Those who had been struck with the stun batons were stiff and sore, some more than others. Septimus seemed to recover the quickest, while Cale and Brute dragged. Though Song had to wonder how much of Brute's pained movements were brought on by the separate torture of his bleak thoughts. She knew for certain that her friend had gone back to that place where he longed for nothing more than to greet death.

Rae broke the silence at last, her voice forced into the semblance of calm, though there was a high, shaky quality to it. “Alright. I'm going to teach everyone how to deactivate their cuffs.” She arranged herself on her bed, legs folded in her usual lotus position, feet bare. “Come on, class. Time to learn a valuable skill.” She clapped twice and a dormant laugh threatened in Song's chest.

For a moment no one reacted, but Rae settled her deadliest glare over them each in turn so Cale and Septimus made their way over. Song was loath to leave her water, but she did. The moment she took her hand from under the stream her wrist burned again, the fire licking at the edges of her determination, forcing her to grit her teeth.

She tucked her hand back into her little sling. Passing Brute on her way to Rae's bed she picked up his hand and set it on her shoulder. “Come on, Brute. Let's learn a skill.”

The krogan didn't move. Barely blinking. As she began to walk his hand slipped from her shoulder and fell limply into his lap. Song turned, struggling to keep her tone level. “Brute... we should all learn this. It's important. I'm certain you can learn it by feel and clearly Rae is an expert.” She held up her good wrist as though Brute could see and immediately felt like an idiot. “Brute... please?”

“I'll come to you,” Rae announced, sliding from her bed and hurrying over to Brute's. She crammed herself in beside him and grabbed one of his hands. “I think it'll be easy to do this by feel. All the pieces you need are slightly raised. Like this.” She ran Brute's fingers over the little control panel on her cuff. “The only thing that might be tough is that this bit and this bit feel about the same.” She paused, touching the components herself, considering.

To Song's unending surprise, Brute leaned in, listening. He even put his hand back to Rae's cuff when she asked him to and everyone let out a collective breath of relief. They all gathered in, watching Rae, trying the technique on their own cuffs. Even Brute managed, though his fingers were thick, and the going slow. The details were miniscule, but then again they had nothing to do all day but learn. It passed the time.

The little lesson felt so natural that no one seemed eager to end it. Everyone had become masters of deactivating their cuffs by dinner time, but none of them left the tight little circle they had formed. Tucked in, shoulder to shoulder. Song leaned her head against Cale's chest beside her. Septimus, on her other side, rested a hand on her thigh. Almost unconsciously, Cale reached up and took one of Brute's hands. Realizing what was going on, Rae took Brute's over hand, folding it in both of hers. Septimus gingerly clasped Rae's ankle as she dangled her leg off the bed and rested her foot on his knee where he sat on the floor. No one spoke. Song closed her eyes. She could feel them breathing, almost as one being. She could also feel the gap where Five should have been. His heartbeat should have found its rhythm with theirs. This time she did not cry, but let herself mourn in a different, more hollow way. Feeling the emptiness, acknowledging it as part of them all now.

When the door opened again Mordo and Ebb stared at the huddle with raised brows, but didn't comment as they led Yellow off to dinner.

~~~~~

The evening passed quietly enough. Dinner was somber and silent as ever, and Song kept expecting Ric to appear with some excuse to bully them. Instead the guard was blessedly absent, though he reappeared to cause them trouble frequently during what remained of the week.

A week that both dragged by and passed all too quickly.

Song had taken to putting wet strips of blanket around her wrist and was beginning to think that she'd hurt forever. There was no relief from the constant, throbbing pain. Her hand was useless, but it didn't matter.

Brute was decidedly uninterested in their training routine that week, no matter how much Rae cajoled. Their schedule was ruined, their discipline gone. They were a shell of what Yellow Team had been. In that respect, the game makers had won after all.

Song looked at her people, shuffling around, heads down, expressions vacant. She didn't have the energy or will to drive them on, and even Cale was down for the count. Her wrist demanded more of her mind's attention than she felt it deserved, but there was nothing she could do.

Septimus was sweet, giving Song all the attention she could stand. Eventually she had to dismiss him back to his own bed, though she did it kindly. There was only so much she and her wrist could take. She still allowed him to re-wrap her injury with freshly dampened strips every half hour or so.

~~~~~

“These days I'm looking forward to the arena,” Song mumbled, laying on her bed with her rag wrapped wrist on her chest, seeping water onto her front and pooling in the hollow of her throat. “That's where my medigel is.” She daydreamed about medigel. Imagining over and over the sweet relief as the blue goo went to work on her broken bones.

Brute grunted.

This was the most sound he had made all day so Song turned her head in his direction, eyebrow raised. The giant too lay on his back, seeming to consider a ceiling he could not see. Maybe he hadn't even been listening to her. Song wished she had the fortitude to try to drag him from this latest bleakness. Rae did try, on occasion, but as much as he might rally to her aid and perk up at her voice, Song knew that the pit in which he currently resided was deeper than his young friend could hope to dig him out of.

Song tilted her head back, ready to try for a nap, when Brute took a meaningful breath. “Song.” He said out of the corner of his mouth, obviously intending his words for her alone.

“Yeah?” She kept her eyes fixed on the deeply uninteresting ceiling. She did find a lonesome claw mark and wondered how it got up there.

“The games... they're over for us.”

“What?” Song's heart pattered to life and she felt each fresh beat in her aching wrist. 'Calm down... you don't know what he's talking about yet.'

“Haven't you wondered why the game makers have been leaving us alone?”

“Not really,” Song answered earnestly. “Not worth the trouble?”

“We're worth the trouble. We became worth the trouble as soon as one of ours was found wandering the halls. When the batarian and turian collect us for meals, don't you notice the two guards standing sentry by our door? We're being watched.”

“How the hell-” Song began before she caught herself.

“Cale pointed them out to me,” Brute gave her the faintest smirk. If he was in a better mood he might have joked that he was able to detect them using some kind of blind man's improved senses.

“Well, the muu did promise we'd be watched,” Song admitted. “But what does that have to do with anything? They want to make sure we don't escape again, and right now we certainly won't.”

“They're keeping an eye on us yes, but you can't believe that little session the other night was all we're going to get.”

Song's breath hitched. She had forced herself to believe it. To think that the muu were done with them after one night of torture. After they'd broken her physically, if not mentally.

“No,” Brute went on. “They have something else in mind for us. I know it, and Septimus knows it too, even though he's trying to pretend it won't happen. I suppose he wants to have one more good week with you before...”

“Before what, Brute?” Song sat up, now staring directly at the krogan, not caring who noticed.

“Before they toss us into a death match.” Brute spoke so quietly Song had to lean in. Her breath caught a jerking gasp as he went on. “The krogan have been getting too rowdy, and the game maker's attempts to divide and conquer with the asari team might have worked in the short term, but they'll fail soon. The muu might not know it, but they're in real danger from the salarians too. Who knows what the damn humans are up to, but you can bet even the turians have something up their sleeves. Maybe not to escape, but definitely to cause trouble.” He took a long breath and Song wondered if he was finished with her, but after a moment he pressed on. “The muu can sense which way things are going. They've seen this, done this before. More times than I can count. They need to thin the herd. Get some new blood. Deal with the trouble makers. Nothing does that better than a death match.”

Song sensed eyes on her and looked up to see that all of Yellow Team was staring. They'd heard, no matter how quiet Brute had tried to be, they'd all heard. Nothing pricks up someone's hearing like the words 'death match' Song thought bitterly. Her wrist unleashed another cruel stab of pain, for emphasis.

“So... so this is it?” Cale asked, brows raised. “One day from now we die?”

“We... we could survive.” Septimus' voice was breathy. “I did. Brute has done many times. We could... we could keep our heads down and-”

“Kid,” Brute's voice was loud now, commanding. Song jumped, ashamed that he could still spook her after all the time they'd spent together. “They want us dead. Fuck, they'll probably even make sure I bite it, even though their favorite thing to do is torture me by keeping me alive.”

“No!” Snapped Rae, sitting up straight. “No way! Fuck this! I'm out. We're out. We're leaving.” She sprang from her bed and darted to the end of the room, clawing at the miniscule crack where the shower hall door nested into the wall.

“Rae, stop,” pleaded Cale. “You're going to hurt yourself and we're not getting out that way. Not any more.”

“If anyone has a latent biotic powers they've been hiding. Now is the time to reveal them.” Septimus' voice was draped in false humor so stark it made Song wince.

“If Five was here he'd get us out, no matter what!” Rae said, stopping her frenzied attack on the door and jamming a bleeding finger into her mouth.

Song's insides twisted. Maybe Five could have saved them, but she couldn't. She was a useless leader who sat by and let them all get tortured, then brutally murdered.

“You had to know this would come.” Brute's fatalistic words hit Song like a blow to the backs of her knees. If she hadn't been sitting down she would have crumpled to the floor.

'No', her mind asserted. 'They didn't know this would come because they were going to escape before that. They were going to be free and see stars and home-worlds and families.' She tried to imagine herself as she had so many times. On the deck of some small ship, heading out into the sweet, inky black to visit the stars. To breath in the light of a thousand new suns and touch the trails of cosmic dust. All she could see today was four walls and terrified faces. She saw her blood pooling out around her. Her intestines ripped away so there was an empty hole in her belly. She saw her team, or what remained of them, laying in heaps on the ground. Barely recognizable as people.

“We had an alliance with the turians once,” Rae said, seemingly resolved to take on Cale's job of team optimist, as he was down for the count. “We talk to them again. Let them know what's up. Then we team up against the others and we live.”

“I'm sure Green already knows what's coming,” Septimus said. “Empress has been through at least one death match.”

“Then she knows what she's doing!” Rae jabbed her still bleeding finger into the air. “We can survive this! I'm not letting some fucking game makers decide when I die!” Her lip trembled, but her expression was still fierce.

Somewhere inside Song the warrior stirred. Raised her head. Song's jaw clenched and this time it wasn't against the pain in her wrist. “We have ties to Red Team as well.” She pointed out, nodding towards Brute.

“And Grey. Trick might not love us, but we might be able to pull some strings.” Cale was up. At last. The word 'irrepressible' came to Song's mind as she watched her human friend come back to life. Once she had found him annoying, now she wished she could be more like him.

“The asari are a problem, but we can deal with them.” Rae said, striding over to stand beside Cale.

Song glanced at Brute and Septimus. Both of them still sagged, their warriors' light bedimmed. Was Septimus thinking of watching her die? His face was twisted by a deep sadness.

Her team was split it two and it was up to Song to bridge the gap. She swallowed, then took a big breath, standing up, ignoring the fire searing up her injured arm.

“We're going to fight. We're going to fight tooth and nail.” Her voice was gravely and sonorous. Her dark eyes shone. “When we see a chance to escape we take it. No question. We watch out for each other and we find allies where we can, but most of all, we fight.” She looked across the mingled hopeful and downtrodden faces of her people. Her family. “Remember the little creature on our plaque in the dining hall? It lays on its back to look weak, then makes the kill when its enemy gets too close. We can show those damn game makers that we aren't helpless, and if it is our fate to die in that arena, we're going out proving how much we deserve to live.” She was surprised to find that she was out of breath when she finished her speech. Had it been inspiring? Leaders gave inspiring speeches, right? Cold sweat trickled down her back. “And...” She surprised herself by continuing, this time quietly, gently. “And if we do die I was... I was glad I got to meet you all. You're... you're the best people I could have hoped to... to die along side.”

~~~~~

The next two day before the death match was filled with ill advised plans and attempted conversations with turians. Brute, after much cajoling by the rest of his team, even tried the krogans and might have made some small headway, though the only one Red Team actually promised to keep alive was Brute himself.

Song's attempt to make contact with Empress was a failure. Septimus went as well, but the guards were watching keenly and worked to keep all the teams from fraternizing even more than usual. Song managed to make a few meaningful gestures at the confused turians, but little else.

“So if everyone knows this is the death match why, are they all going along with it?” Cale asked as he picked at his breakfast. As the day of their final game came calling, none of them could stomach food. “Why don't the salarians make their escape? Why don't the asari try that uprising we all know they've been poking at for a while now?”

Brute grunted, shifting uncomfortably and flaring his small nostrils. “Because we're trained. We're all either too well trained or too beaten down to really try it.”

“But the salarians aren't,” Rae pressed, eying the team of lanky techies. Song looked up to see Trick near the end of their table. His long, lean form reminded her painfully of Five. What would he have said if he'd found them on their way to a death match? Of course, if he was still with them Song felt certain that Yellow would have escaped by now.

As it was, all their eyes were forever searching. Seeking a desperate chink on the game maker's armor. Cale had found himself on the wrong end of several guard batons as he made ill advised bids for escape. Once he even had to pretend his cuffs were still active, which, thankfully, he pulled off. No amount of free hands and feet could help little Yellow make their way to freedom. They all knew it, yet they all tried, at various times, to slip away. Even Song, though she regretted it as all it took to subdue her was a quick jab to the wrist with the unlit end of a baton.

“The salarians must have something up their sleeves,” Cale mused, rubbing his chin. Though his eyes were wide and a bit wild with the steadily oncoming panic they were all experiencing, he kept his voice level and cool.

“Or they're waiting until their numbers are thinned so they can more easily escape,” Brute pointed out.

Over at the asari table blue energy and tempers flared. It was obvious that everyone had gotten the news, either via chatty guard or instinct, that a death match was on the horizon. Maybe some didn't expect it to be today, though by the way Grey Team had their heads together and were ignoring their food, Song suspected that some knew more than others. She squinted at the salarians as guards rushed to deal with the asari situation. “What are you up to?” she asked under her breath.

“So our plan is still: hope we have allies and go down fighting? Just to be clear.” Cale spoke again, startling Song out of her scrutiny.

“I..” Sitting there, waiting to go into the arena, anything she would say felt hollow and pathetic. There was nothing to be done. Everything they could have done they should have, and now the time had passed them up. Her heart was already hard at work hammering out its wild dance against her ribs and she had to struggle to keep her breathing as reasonable as possible or pass out. Beside her Septimus stood sat rigid and taught as his bow string. “Unless anyone has anything better.”

“Find the nearest muu, take them hostage, demand to be let free.” Rae jabbed her fork into her food so it stuck, upright. She grimaced. “I guess it's probably good that my sister didn't live to see this part.”

Song flinched. If there had once been any innocence in little Rae, had she lost it long ago, or when she came to this awful place?

“We could do,” Cale leaned back, laying on all his false bravado as thick as the fruit paste on his and Song's platters. He scanned the room for nearby game makers. Usually two or three stalked the dining hall daily, but today Song didn't see a single one. Probably all getting ready for the spectacle of watching everyone murder one another.

Nara and Ric appeared to collect them all too soon. The two guards looked over Yellow with an odd mix of loathing, boredom, and... was that a little sympathy on Nara's scarred face? Song felt rooted to her spot. She thought of telling the guards that she couldn't go to the death arena today. Someone had glued her to the bench.

“Cale,” squeaked Rae, an involuntary sound that was half way to a sob. She grabbed the man's bicep with both, trembling hands.

It hadn't been real until that moment. Hadn't been certain. They'd known this moment would come in their minds, but now, as they stood to make their final march to the arena, they knew it in their souls.

Song finally pried herself from her seat, vaguely hearing the asari kicking up another fuss as they were lead to the arena. She felt detached again, as though everything was moving in slow motion, yet simultaneously much too fast. Her mind brought her a vision she hadn't seen in a while. The view of a krogan ripping a human's head off. The one she had caught on the screen back home, what seemed a lifetime ago. Maybe it was a lifetime, as hers was about to be ended.

They all walked numbly into the prep hall. Someone handed Cale the pad to choose new gear, but they couldn't afford much. He bought two arm bracers sized to fit Rae and, on a whim, a single dagger, like the ones Five had used.

Song stood, sagging against Septimus, who had his arms around her as though he could protect her from the inevitable. She could feel him trembling and wished she had the strength to comfort him back. She tried to remember the night of pleasure they had spent together. How sweet and tender he had been. How much she'd miss that when... well, when they were both dead. Then a hand slipped into hers, which hung limply at her side, and her heart exploded to life.

“Five?” She turned, maneuvering Septimus along with her. “Five? Oh my god, FIVE!”

The salarian stood, flanked by guards, but very much alive. A thin, sad smile stretched his lips as he looked down at Song, tears welling in his large eyes. She threw herself at him, broken wrist be damned. She hugged that lanky bastard harder than she had probably hugged anyone in her life, and he wrapped his long limbs around her in return, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Hey Song,” he said weakly.

Then the whole team was curled around them in the most awkward group hug that had probably ever been. Guards and fellow teams alike stopped to take in the absurdity.

“What the hell happened to you,” Song swiped tears from under her eyes with her good hand as she broke away from the hug at last.

“I was caught... but you probably figured that out,” Five shrugged limply.

“And we thought you were dead!” Rae said, punching Five in the arm.

“Ow! Hey! They kept me locked away from you all.” Five rubbed his arm. Rae's punch hadn't been hard and Song suspected Five had spent some time with crabby guards who enjoyed zapping salarians to take out their frustration. “I figured I was done for sure when they caught me.”

“You mean, when you let them catch you,” Song corrected, cutting a glance towards Grey Team. “Trick came to our barracks to warn us in thanks for what you did. We had to get rid of our dagger door stop and had a little discipline session with the muu, but they kept us alive too.”

Five took in what remained of his bedraggled team, his eyes resting on Song's wrist with sympathy. “I don't know what Trick was up to, be he was busy. I spotted him sneaking around near the control room first, but didn't let him see me. Later we were both near the mess hall when guards showed up. I had to run interference. It's not like Trick can turn invisible. I was hoping I could lead the guards around for a while, then escape. That didn't work.”

Rae silently pivoted her little body around so she was blocking Five's hands from view, disabling his wrist cuffs. Song slipped her good hand back into Five's. “I knew... some part of me knew you weren't dead.” She decided not to admit all the times she had doggedly tried to convince herself otherwise. Of course, soon they would all be dead.

She had to let Five's hand go to take her polearm, wondering if she could protect herself and her people well enough to see them through this. Her mind was still racing, reaching for any option, any chance for freedom. She looked to Empress and her turians. The battle hardened leader was ignoring her. Trick, on the other hand, was looking their way. He'd noticed that Five had come back alive.

“Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, buddy,” Cale said, patting Five gingerly on a slim shoulder blade, “but why didn't the game makers kill you? I mean, killing all of Yellow outside of the arena, yeah, that's a waste of good entertainment, but you... they could make an example.” He passed the salarian the new dagger he had purchased.

Five ducked his head, faint smile flickering over his thin lips as he took the offered weapon. “Apparently I'm... I'm the most popular member of Yellow. To the audiences-” he corrected hastily as his team turned to stare at him.

The doors at the end of the hall opened and Song's heart leaped into her throat, showing no signs of ever settling down again. She ran a free finger over the medigel canisters strapped to her body. She wasn't allowed to use them here, but the moment the guards left her alone on her starting pad, she was dosing herself. This broken wrist was dragging her down like a hundred pound weight hanging from her arm.

Rae ducked to deactivate Five's cuffs as they waited their turn to enter the arena, last as always. They may not have had any kind of, plan, but at this point the ability to stand when others would fall to the game maker's wills seemed pretty important. The rest of Yellow moved in around the little drell so no one could see her working. She was quick and bobbed back up moments later, mingled fear and victory on her face. She then tucked herself under Cale's arm. Song's could see her hands shaking.

Song's whole body felt like it was vibrating with nervous electricity. As if someone had plucked a taught string inside her chest and it would never stop moving again. Her team closed in around her, huddling closer than they usually did as they were led into the arena.

Cale was noticeably trying to avoid eye contact with Ric, who was glaring daggers whenever he got the chance. Song suspected at least one guard was betting heavily against them. To her surprise, Nara did not look pleased at all. The tall woman wove in to walk with Yellow, almost as though she belonged. “It's a damn shame,” she said, looking them over with a sympathetic eye that surprised and baffled Song. Perhaps the woman was content enough to see them hurt, but watching them die was a whole other matter. Nara touched Brute's scarred forearm. “I'm sorry, Old Man. I thought maybe-”

“That I'd never see another one of these?” Brute asked. His voice was low and dejected. Song wondered if part of the krogan was glad that he might finally see an end to it, or, now that he was faced with another death match, if he'd changed his mind. “Well,” his tone hitched with false mirth, “I won't see it.” His hand on Song's shoulder tightened fractionally.

The door to the arena was coming at them too quickly. Song ached to dig in her heels. To refuse to enter. What good would that do? At worst she'd die in a hall instead of whatever landscape awaited them. She tilted her head back, listening for the last time to the looping call of fake birds. She could see the brightness of canned sunlight and she still anticipated a breeze, though she knew there would never be one.

The light washed over them, bathing Yellow team in its golden glow, almost like a blessing, as they stepped into the arena. Song thought she could already smell the acrid tang of death on the stagnant air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. It's time for a DEEEEEEATH BAAAATTLE!  
> Hopefully this chapter didn't drag too much. It felt a little draggy to me when I was editing it. Feel free to share any thoughts you might have.
> 
> I am going to TRY to get you all the chapters until the end at a the once per week schedule, but I cannot guarantee that'll happen.


	28. Let This be our Last Battlefield

Chapter 28  
Let this Be our Last Battlefield

“This will be a death match!” The disembodied voice from the unseen speakers announced.

Song and company ignored it. They stood on their pads, leaning together as best they could, trying to hash out some semblance of a plan. Song fumbled one of her medigel canisters loose, tucking her polearm between her knees as she twisted the ring on the canister and jammed the protruding needle into her arm, just above her injured wrist. She tossed the empty canister to the grass beside her and relished the cool feeling of the gel moving in her blood, already repairing the bone.

The arena that day was nothing but a grassy field. Nothing but stubby green undergrowth and horizon as far as the eye could see, though Song knew it was an illusion. Odds were good that if she and her team turned to flee, they'd smack nose first into the arena wall.

The teams were arranged in a circle, though there was no central goal, to points to score this time. They faced each other across the green, either with anticipation or dread. Emotions were so high in that arena that Song wondered if the viewers at home could feel it through their vid screens.

“There will be no points awarded in this match, except for kills!” The voice announced, almost proudly.

Song wished Septimus could shoot the hidden voice box.

“Thirty points will be awarded for each kill!”

Song winced. A high point value, even more incentive to be the murderer instead of the murdered. What if your team had no choice?

“Who's on either side of us?” asked Brute. He'd come around a bit now that they had entered the arena. Though he still wore a lost expression, Song wanted to hug him for how hard he was trying. How mightily he was already battling against his crippling despair to be there for his team.

“Grey is on our left,” Cale answered. “Following around the arena in that direction we have Blue, then Red at the point farthest from us. I think the game makers put them beside Blue because that'll be the most action packed fight.”

“The game makers like the krogan and asari rivalry,” Brute grunted. “It's mostly a show. Some of the younger Reds might still buy into it as a real conflict, but the rest know better.”

“After Red is Green, then Black. They're to our right.” He gestured, caught himself, then shook his head, chuckling.

Song looked towards Grey. The salarians too had their heads together, plotting something that involved a great deal of hand gestures. Song suspected that none of it had to do with fighting.

BONG!

Song jumped, then scolded herself. It had been a long time since she'd spooked at the sound of the gong as the red light appeared in the sky. She imagined muu civilians, sitting in their special galleries, eager to watch the aliens slaughter one another. She wondered if crowds had come from the surrounding worlds to see a death match first hand. If you came to see every match were there special bonuses? Free tickets for your tenth death match?

“There's no way we can face any one of these teams and win,” Song said, turning to look at Black to their right. “The humans are a real threat. They capitalize on weakness and we're the weakest thing out here.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Rae, planting her fists on her hips. Her bravado rivaled Cale's, though Song could still see the panic behind the little drell's eyes.

“Can we count on Red and Blue to go after one another right away?” Song asked Brute.

“It's a solid bet. Even if it is all for show, they'll likely be interested in giving a good one. It's how they survive. How they live to see their next death match.”

Song's hand was tingling as the swelling in her wrist finally went down. It had taken the medigel longer than usual, and her wrist still ached frustratingly, but she could use it. She pursed her lips, shaking out her fingers and flexing her hand. “I don't think Grey will bother us... maybe Green will go after Black right away and take that pressure off us.”

“Or they might chose a side in the krogan/asari situation and pick off who they can.” Cale pointed out.

BONG!

“With Black as the biggest threat we should do our best to find the arena wall and get our backs to it,” Song said. “Like that day in the dining hall.”

“Better than that day,” Rae countered, “because it'll only be the humans coming after us this time, and we'll be ready.”

“But they'll be armed and armored,” Five pointed out. Two daggers were already hovering before his face. Song noticed that he favored one arm slightly, but seemed well enough.

“If anyone still has any serious injuries or pain from our tangles with the guards, use medigel now,” Song instructed. “I want everyone as fit as possible for this.”

“We need to look good,” Five agreed, his old snark returning. “I, for one, will make a beautiful corpse. Elegant in my repose.”

Rae snorted. She opened her mouth to retort, or perhaps add to the sass, when the gong sounded a final time. The light in the sky turned green and the death match began.

Song hadn't known her heart could beat this hard. Even when she's been faced with the threat of certain drowning, her hands hadn't trembled this much, her breath hadn't come in these tight, little gasps. For a few seconds she stood immobile as the world moved around her in slow motion. She heard battle cries as if from a great distance. She thought, for the briefest moment, she could transport herself. Let her consciousness fall away and send herself back home to a beautiful jungle. To the air thick with the sweet scents of balfa flowers, and a life that had understandable rules.

Instead she blinked hard, forcing her mind from its retreat. People needed her. Somehow she'd become leader of this doomed team and they hadn't demanded she step down, even after the torture they'd endured. She wouldn't abandon them now.

Song darted to Brute's side, anchoring her blind friend and turning to take stock of the action. Action there was. None of the teams seemed to waste any time. Red and Blue, as predicted, were charging one another. Perhaps they were still willing to play into the narrative the muu wanted from them. Green was moving in a tight cluster, but Song couldn't easily determine their goal at a glance.

“Black's coming,” Cale warned and Song eased Brute back. They'd have to get themselves against the arena wall, as they'd planned, and fight as best they could from there. The rest of Yellow followed her retreat, weapons raised. Septimus fell in at Brute's other shoulder, bow already drawn back to his mandible, arrows clamped in his teeth.

Though Song monitored Back Teams progress in their direction, she turned for a moment to look at Grey. She raised both eyebrows as she took in the salarians. They hadn't turned to fight anyone. Instead the whole team had folded inward, obviously intent on something within their ranks. Possibly in the floor. Song remembered seeing Trick on Yellows punishment day in the arena. Her team had been huddled in a cave watching the salarian do something on the pebbled ground. Song had a good hunch what that was.

Song's back struck something firm and cool. She reached behind herself with a hand, touching fingertips to the false horizon. This was all the further they could go? Inwardly she cursed. Of course the game makers would want the battlefield small. If any team could get too far away, they might be ignored, and today, everyone was fair game.

As much as she hated to do it, Song positioned Brute at the front of their formation. If nothing else, he was intimidating. He could likely do more with his bare fists than she ever could with her polearm.

Yellow fanned into position behind Brute, ready to leap out and strike. Song braced, all her muscles taught and ready. Her wrist gave one last throb, as though in warning. She bared her teeth in what she hoped was a fearsome grimace as Black Team jogged towards them.

Black Team was almost within weapons range when they swerved. Yellow watched in bafflement as the humans ignored the 'under dogs' and darted past, intent on hitting Grey. The salarians were so focused on whatever it was that they were doing that they were barely in formation. They had formed an odd huddled, gathered around who knew what. Had they set out any traps or mines for oncoming enemies, or had they just hoped that Black would be too busy slaughtering Yellow?

Song's questions were answered as the first two humans to get near the salarians met with grizzly ends. The mines weren't overly powerful, but they did kick up a spray of holographic dirt and sent the humans who stepped on them flying back, limbs torn, faces mangled.

Song's stomach gave a pained lurch as Black pulled what remained of the forerunners back, one yelling in agony, the other still and limp. Three salarians stood read to launch what Song guessed to be more explosives towards their foes. She recognized the golden casing of the 'easter eggs' from the maze. No longer a prize, instead filled with death.

More explosions, more humans dead or injured. Yellow stood their ground, uncertain. Every second they weren't engaged with an enemy was another second alive, Song reasoned. No need to dive into trouble when it would come for them soon enough anyway.

The humans broke through. There were too many, and the few salarians who were keeping them back with explosives were felled. Black Team crashed into Grey's relatively unprotected flank. Where once a few bombs would have given the humans pause, the death and gore now seemed to drive them on into wrath. Song watched as several salarians were cut down. The lanky techs had blades, but they were clumsy with them. Untrained. No one had stood with them all day, coaching them in the best use of their swords or polearms. Smart as they were, their deficit became deadly clear. Still, they struggled on, only sending some of their number to combat the humans as others worked feverishly on whatever it was on the ground that had them so interested.

Song adjusted her grip on her polearm, bringing the point down. She's made a decision and she didn't have time to ponder it. “Let's go, Yellow!” she shouted.

She stepped forward, planted Brute's hand on her shoulder, waited a second for the rest of her team to realize what she'd just told them, and surged forward.

To Song's immense surprise and endless gratitude, all of Yellow Team went with her. They crashed into the back of Black Team, taking the humans almost entirely by surprise.

Song had never imagined she could feel in her element in the middle of heated combat. She'd felt competent before, even confident, but nothing like this. Her blood pounded in her ears and the side of herself that she always kept slightly in check; the side that screamed for freedom and blood; roared inside her now. She kept to Brute's side, working in tandem with the giant. He hold to intimidate anyone he could while she skewered with her polearm.

Though the fire of battle was lit within Song, she often struck to wound rather than kill. She wanted the humans out of the way, but some part of her still knew that Yellow wasn't going to win this deathmatch. She sent another human reeling with a crushing blow from the butt of her staff. She used both ends of the long weapons as needed, keeping her foes at a distance as best she could. If one did get to close, Cale or Rae would help with their swords. Septimus or Five aided her with projectiles.

This fight felt more like winning than anything Song could remember. Even that day when they had won in the arena. That had been handed to them, this fight was all down to her teams skill and ability to work together.

Song and her team pushed hard on the left side of Black's flank, curling it away from the salarians as well as keeping one side of themselves to the arena wall. This prevented them from being surrounded. Ahead of her, Brute grunted, taking a hard blow to the jaw with barely a flinch. Before Song could react, the human responsible found an arrow sprouting from his thigh. He yelped and fell back, even as Five used his biotics to rip the arrow from his flesh with a meaty tearing sound. The man screamed and fell. Another human dragged him back. Song hadn't seen the red haired boy from the maze. The one she had assumed was a leader in the human team. Secretly she was glad of it. The violence was easier against strangers.

“I'm leaving you,” Song hissed to Brute, catching sight of an opening in the embattled human ranks. The krogan gave a quick nod to show he had heard and Song darted out around him, leaping through the gap and sliding onto her knees, directly into the middle of the salarians.

In seconds several blades were at her throat and she felt certain she had made her first and last grievous error of this fight. She swallowed as the cool metal prickled her skin, as she turned, trying to find... “Trick!”

The green skinned salarian was nearby, crouching over a spot in the grass, bleeding from a wound above his eye. He turned at the sound of her voice and gaped openly at her for a moment, small mouth slightly ajar. Swiping at blood that was gunning into his eye, Trick gestured for the salarians threatening Song to move back. She exhaled, reaching up absently to touch her neck, finding a small nick just under her jaw.

“What can we do?” she asked.

At first Trick looked baffled again. As if she'd spoken one of the obscure human dialects instead of common. Song wondered how bad his head wound was. After a moment his face cleared. His mouth set into a hard line before he nodded, more to himself than her, and said “Keep them off us. We just need a little more time.”

“Right!” Song swung around on her heel, intent on returning to her team with these simple instructions. For a moment she was meshed into the salarian ranks, facing Black Team, with Yellow on the other side of them. A whole section of Black was sandwiched between the two teams and was faltering. A larger contingent of Black was still working at a different section of Grey's rudimentary formation, and were having far greater success. “Shore up that flank!” Song pointed to where Black was finding a foothold. “Yellow will take this one!”

No one moved to obey. She wondered if they'd even heard. “Do as she says!” Shouted a salarian who crouched beside Trick. Song squinted over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were working on. She caught sight of metal and the frayed edges of pixels. They'd disrupted the arena hologram somehow and were working on the floor beneath. She gritted her teeth and tried again, “I said, shore up that flank or we're going to DIE!”

The salarians moved. Perhaps not well, or efficiently, but they moved. Several more salarians were wounded or killed as they struggled to do as they were told. Song grabbed a fallen salarian's collar and dragged the lanky alien back into the thick of his allied ranks before she moved forward again, slicing and battering with her pole as if it were second nature. In many ways it was. Her muscles knew what to do better than her mind did. Brute had drilled all of these movements into her, and though it was different holding the actual weapon and making contact with a foe, the art of it was true. Human blood splattered her cheek and she little noticed when she received wounds of her own. If they weren't immediately life threatening she didn't have time for them.

Yellow team broke through, finally shattering the thinned flank and moving to Song's aid. They turned their formation, taking salarians with them as best they could, to hit the humans somewhere new. They were able to curl around Black Team just enough to put them on the defensive instead.

Song glanced at Brute. He was covered in wounds, but didn't seem to notice or care. The humans were beginning to avoid him now and all he had to do was move forward to send them scattering. Cale was at his side, keeping him from getting too far out of formation. Even Brute couldn't handle it if he found himself surrounded.

“Almost there,” Song heard one of the salarians behind her say. Her momentary distraction meant she left herself open for another wound. Hissing in frustration as she felt a blade lash at her thigh. She struck out, connecting the blade of her polearm solidly with her foe, jerking the metal in deeper for extra emphasis. She still flinched as her foe cried out in pain. Deep inside Song still hated that sound. Hated what it meant. She had seen her own people in agony. Just because she had the power and skill to cause it in others did not mean she enjoyed the end result. Many of her blows were deadly and her gut twisted. This was exactly what the muu wanted. She could almost feel their eyes on her. Watching from some invisible window. Perhaps enjoying fine food as slaves slaughtered each other below for their entertainment.

There was a crack like arching electricity behind her and someone yelped.

Song parried a blow and turned. Trick was on the ground, twisted in pain, fingertips singed black. Another salarian squatted over him, concerned, but there was little he could do. Beside them a control panel was laid bare. Wires stuck out at odd angles like the intestines of some gutted creature as the grass around it fizzed and pixelated sporadically.

Trick gave another gasp, his body convulsing momentarily before he went still, his last breath hissing from him. He'd electrocuted himself, but the job was done.

Already fresh explosions were popping up. The effect of what Trick had lost his life setting into motion. The human team hesitated, looking around at the explosions, flinching at each. Song knew that these pops of electricity were not directed at any team. She suspected unseen relays of some kind were shorting, then exploding. She could only hope that there weren't any under her team's feet.

At the other end of the arena the main doors snapped open. A square hole in the false horizon. No guards poured through yet, so Song suspected the salarians had opened it. The one who had commanded Grey Team to listen to Song looked at her. “You helped us and we thank you, but this isn't an alliance. Get your people out as best you can. We go our separate ways.”

Song nodded, sparing one more glance for Trick's limp, lifeless body, nestled in the holographic grass. Had he ever seen real sky? Ever felt real grass tickle his skin?

Grey Team suddenly dropped to the ground, their cuffs activated. It took Song a long moment, too long, to realize what had happened. All across the grassy field, other teams were dropping to the ground. Everyone but Yellow and Grey. Guards were coming in, pouring through the door like deadly ants. Dark splotches against false sky.

Grey Team wasted no time. They shot off, intent on whatever plan they had worked out, possibly months or even years in advance. “We need to get gone,” Song said, eying their surroundings.

More explosions rattle the arena. Instead of sending chunks of 'grass' flying, these put up a cascade of disrupted pixels. Circuits overloading, one by one.

Song turned to Rae. She grasped the little drell's shoulders, forcing her to focus on something besides the retreating backs of the salarians and the oncoming guards. “Do you remember where any of those doors were? The ones in the sky we saw before?”

“Yes!” Rae caught on. “This arena configuration is different, obviously, but I think I still know!”

“Let's go!” Song instructed, grabbing Brute's hand. Her thigh gave a warning twinge and she realized blood was pouring down her leg. Gritting her teeth she snatched up another medigel. “Use them if you need to! We're going to need to move fast!”

Everyone was wounded. Everyone hurriedly injected at least one canister of gel into themselves. At first Brute did not, but Cale didn't give him a choice, treating the worst looking of the blind krogans many injuries before nodding to Song.

“Alright,” Song's voice rose to command as chaos broke out at the other end of the arena. She heard more explosions and the shouting of guards, too loud for her liking. “Let's go. Rae?”

Rae nodded, her lips pursed, her little body nearly vibrating with what might have been fear, or excitement, or both. She darted across the grass, arms held in front of her so when she collided with the false horizon she wouldn't break her nose.

The others rushed after her, Song taking up the rear guard position with her polearm. Just because the guards were currently very distracted by the salarian team didn't mean they would remain so. Septimus lagged back, jogging beside her for a moment, his bow slung across his shoulders, arrows tucked in his belt for running. He shot frequent glances over his shoulder before finally stopping, gazing back in the direction of the conflict by the main door.

Another explosion kicked up a cascade of degraded pixels.

“Septimus?” Song asked, stopping as soon as she saw that he had. Yellow Team jogged on for several more strides before noticing that their leader was no longer with them.

“Song,” Septimus turned to her, his expression pleading. “I... I have to go help Green. If I can free all their cuffs then everyone will have a better chance.”

“That's insane,” Rae snapped, planting her hands on her hips. “We need to go!”

Septimus ignored the little drell, his eyes locked on Song's as though he could see through into her mind. “I have to. Clan before blood.”

“We're your clan too.” Song's voice surprised her with how small it sounded. Like a sad girl seeing her lover go, not the fierce leader she was supposed to be.

“You are.” Septimus stepped in, both hands cupping her jaw. She leaned against him, their body's pressed together as she grasped his angular shoulders, running a hand up the back of his neck. “You all are. More than I can say... but so are they-” He gestured with his head towards where Green lay, helpless thanks to their cuffs.

“We'll go with you then.” Song moved as though to walk around Septimus, back the way they had come.

“No.” He stopped her, hands once again caressing her face. He pressed his forehead to hers and Song breathed in a little gasp. She knew this was a turian gesture of deep affection, not shared with anyone but the most beloved. How could she let him go now? How could he ask her to? She breathed in his smell, gentle, unassuming, like him. She closed her eyes, letting that moment of closeness wash over her, wishing it would never end. If she could only hold him there, make him understand that somehow she had become the one who wasn't prepared for their parting. It was hard to think of herself as the woman who had been ever braced for him to be taken from her at a moment's notice. Perhaps it was different when he was choosing to go.

“We need to move!” Rae was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Clearly she was too caught up by the adrenaline of the moment to mourn Septimus' desire to leave them.

“Go.” Septmius leaned back from Song and it was as though some had taken all her warmth away. He looked around at the rest of Yellow with fond eyes. “You're my clan too, which is why I'll catch up to you if I can. I'll be free with you.”

Song gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to step towards him again. “Be careful, alright? Remember you have medigel. Use it. No good saving any of it after today.”

“And don't waste those arrows. You won't have me to return them,” Five advised. His voice too was tight with emotion Song hadn't expected from him.

Brute let out his low chuckle. “If you can, free the krogan team. Tell them I sent you. That'll keep those muu bastards busy.”

“Right.” Septimus backed away a few more steps.

Song impulsively grabbed his hand and kissed the tops of his fingers. “Find us.”

“Leave the door open. I remember the blanket map.” Septimus nodded towards the false sky, then turned, pulling his hand from Song's, darting away across the grass. His run was clumsy and he tripped over his own feet once, but even landing on all fours he scrambled up and ran on.

Song's heart twisted in an invisible fist, but she turned back to her team. “Let's go.”

“We should have gone with him,” Cale said, still watching Septimus' retreating form. “It's a mess over there.”

“He'll be careful.” Rae jogged a few more paces and her hands collided with the wall. “Septimus survived the last death match he was in. He'll survive this one.”

Song hoped desperately that Rae was right. She shot another glance over her shoulder, but her lover was one amongst many struggling figures now. She couldn't pick him out as acrid smoke filtered into the still air from the holes Grey Team's explosions had caused.

“Brute! Boost me up!” Rae commanded, reaching towards what Song could only assume was an unseen door.

“How do we disrupt the hologram to get through?” Cale asked.

“I don't know that we need to. If we can feel the wall, maybe I can feel the door,” said Rae.

“Or maybe this was the worst plan we've had yet,” Five snarked as he helped Rae get onto Brute's shoulders.

“Don't move big guy.” Rae stood up on Brute;s shoulders and began to feel around on the invisible wall. It was odd to see someone with their hands flat against what looked like endless sky. As though Rae were pretending. She fumbled around, giving instructions to Brute as she did. “A little to the right. There we go.... another step please? Good.”

Song looked back across the arena. She could see guards and a few muu swarming around, but the salarians seemed to still be causing havoc, even as the muu's biotic fields trapped them here or there. They slipped away form their would-be captors with astounding agility that Song guessed was borne of desperation.

“Come on you sonofabitch,” Rae growled, her tongue sticking out between her teeth.

Some of the turians were on their feet now. Song felt the fist around her heart ease slightly. Septimus had reached Green Team and he was setting them free. The turians added their clout to Grey's situation. Even from this distance Song could see them working together to drive towards the door with a ferocity she hadn't even known in arena battles.

“Wait! I've got something!” Rae crowed, her hands sliding up and down in a line. “Yeah, this feels like a crack, like a door! But how the hell do we get it open...? Wait! Control panel! Bingo! I'm going to start hitting buttons.”

Rae fumbled with her hands against sky, balanced like an acrobat on Brute's shoulders. She hardly noticed if the big krogan shifted under her to stand more comfotrably. Moments later there was a quiet 'bzzt' sound. Rae's fingers moved again, and the sound came again. “Dammit. I think I need a code.”

“Let me up,” Song said, turning away from her observation of the conflict by the door, her mind racing. This was muu tech. Back home the house had locked with a simple, symbol mechanism to keep out intruders at night. It was the same for the slave compound, but everyone learned that you could get your arm through the window beside the door and punch in an easy code. Many nights were spent out in the yard, silently enjoying the beauty of the jungle in darkness and the endless, deep purple sky dotted with motes of gold.

Rae climbed down from Brute's shoulders and Song was hoisted up. She was much less steady and nearly fell off before she braced herself against the sky-wall. “Sorry,” she muttered to Brute, who grunted with exertion or frustration, she wasn't sure which.

She felt around for a moment knowing she looked like an idiot, until she found the panel. Her fingers traced the keypad, nearly flush with the wall. There were no raised letters or numbers, but she knew was a normal panel like this looked like. She'd opened the slave compound door enough times key the code with her eyes closed. But what was this code? It wasn't numerical, too many keys for that. Word symbols then? That was common. She sucked in her lips. Back home the symbols for the slave compound had been stupidly easy to guess. The muu were a literal people, and also had no idea of their slaves getting loose at night. Song had to assume that whoever had programmed this door would have felt certain that no slave would ever find it. No doubt these doors were usually used by lazy maintenance workers to service the arena.

She pressed the two symbols for 'open'. 'Bzzt' A creased formed between her brows as she reoriented her fingers. 'Door open' 'Bzzzt' 'Open Door.'

Song nearly fell backwards from Brute's shoulders as the sky she was leaning against slipped to the side and the door snapped open. A dark rectangle hovering in crystalline blue. She pinwheeled her arms and Brute shifted his weight to send her falling forward. Her stomach collided into the bottom ledge of the doorway and grabbed on, scrambling into the waiting corridor. The moment she was in she turned around and leaned back out. “Let's go!”

Getting Brute through the door proved hardest of all, and it took a whole lot of team ingenuity to do it. Naturally, he insisted on being left behind, but no one would hear of that and his heart wasn't in it when he offered. It was obvious that, now that they were well and truly staring freedom in the face, Brute wanted to come with them. At first everyone clamored up into the opening and tried to pull Brute up by his arms. This was a resounding failure so they climbed back out of the hole and the entire team worked to push the krogan high enough to hook his elbows over the ledge. From there was he was able to haul himself up with minimal pushing from below. Then it was just a matter of boosting one another into the opening.

Finally they stood, all their boots resting on metal grating and staring out into the arena which now seemed like another world. As though they too were only watching it on a screen.

Rae glanced behind them the dim hallway in which they had found themselves. There was a door at the far end, but Song saw no complicated panel for codes, merely a simple opening mechanism. Maybe this was going to be easier than they had all imagined.

“How is Septimus going to follow us?” Cale asked, leaning out to look back down into the arena. “We needed to help each other up.

“Step back,” Brute ordered, ushering them towards the closed door with his arm. He took a moment to feel around, touching the walls on either side of him, then the grated floor. After a moment he slid his fingers into the grating and yanked. Metal squealed and bent. With a roar that echoed too-loud in their little hallway, Brute snapped a sizable hunk of grating from the floor, revealing thick pipes and packs of coated wire, held together with black bands to follow pathways towards the arena. “Here. Someone who can see lean this outside so he can climb it.”

Cale stepped forward to complete the task, raising both eyebrows at the krogan, obviously impressed.

Finally they all turned towards the waiting door. Song imagined opening it and stepping straight into her dream. Walking directly to a sea of stars and absolute freedom. Her heart thundered and she wondered if she would ever be calm again. She felt like a small animal, snapped up in a predator's jaws again and again, only to this time slide free and scamper away.

She stepped to the head of her team, drawing her polearm carefully from where she had strapped it to her back for the climb. She held it in one hand, tucked against her, reaching out with the other and pushing the door control button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you caught the Star Trek reference in the title, you get a cookie! I usually try to throw in a few Star Trek refs whenever I write Scifi ;) Brings me joy.
> 
> So, will our friends get free? Will they be recaptured the moment they walk out that door? Will Septimus be able to catch back up with them? You'll have to read and find out. Thus far the plan is 'go' for having your next exciting chapter out on time next monday!


	29. The Path to Freedom

Chapter 29  
The Path To Freedom

The door at the end of the little maintenance hall opened onto a larger passage. Five went first, invisible, to check their route. Song and the others hung back, listening to the sounds of the chaos in the arena. There was so much shouting, punctuated by the distant pops of explosions, that Song wasn't certain who all was involved in the fight, or who was winning.

Ahead Song heard a mumbling voice that she knew must be Five's. “Alright... okay, yeah. Yeah I know where this is.”

Moments later the salalrians managed to startle them all by appearing in front of them, a victorious smile on his thin lips. “We're coming out near the control room. I know how to get to the lift from there and from the lift-”

“We get to the ships!” Cale was almost vibrating with excitement. He looked half wild, eyes wide, hands clenched into ready fists.

Song wondered if the team would need their weapons, or if they would only get in the way. They all still wore their gear, stowed in belts and clasped in tense hands. She decided she wasn't going to let go of her polearm just yet and aimed the point out through the door, her feverishly excited mind half expecting an enemy to come dashing around the corner.

With Brute's hand firmly on her shoulder, Song followed her teammates out into the larger hall. She could still faintly hear the sounds from the arena, as well as raised voices from another, nearer source.

“The control room,” Five hissed, catching the questioning look from his friends. “We're going to have to go past it to reach the lift. If we need to I'll take you past one at a time, invisible.”

“Won't that expend a lot of energy?” Rae asked, her voice a barely audible squeak. She was still holding her short sword, almost like a comfort item.

“Yes, but it'd be worth it.” Five's jaw was set.

They crept on, keeping to the wall, as though it could afford them some kind of cover. As though their little band of misfits didn't stand out like blood in milk against the sterile white of their surroundings.

The door to the control room came into view. It was open and Song could hear at least two muu talking within. “What do we do? Send more guards?!” asked one, his voice younger, perhaps an an intern, Song thought with unexpected amusement.

“Wake the night guard and send them in. We'll soon have this little uprising subdued.” said a second voice. This one was female. Older. Song stiffened. A voice she knew. A voice that made her hands grip, with deadly force, around her polearm. 'Tonight, we break you. Then, in the arena, we bury you'

“I'm going to check first,” Five whispered, vanishing into the air as he slipped away from Yellow Team.

Song ground her teeth. If there were only two. If they could be taken by surprise... her team couldn't understand the muu language, did anyone else recognize the voice? She cut a glance at Rae and knew that at least someone did.

“I think we can slip past, if we're quiet,” came Five's voice.

“What if we don't want to?” Song's throat was tight, every muscle taught as a coiled spring.

Brute must have felt it in the set of her shoulders. He squeezed. “I like your spirit, but for once the salarian may be right-”

“Gee, thanks,” snarked Five, reappearing before them, arms folded.

“If we take them we could trash the control room,” Song pointed out. Whatever logical part of her brain captained this team and kept them alive in the arena seemed to have decided to retreat, leaving only a vengeful shadow. “She's in there,” Song gestured with her head. “The one that tortured us. The one that nearly killed Brute... a couple of times.”

“I know,” said Cale, his own pale eyes flinty. “And I want to kill her too, but we should be smart about this. If no one realizes we're gone we need to keep it that way.”

Song bit her tongue. Her team was right and she forced the fire down. Soom it was her turn to slip past the door. She couldn't help but peek inside as she slunk by, keeping low. The control room was almost as large as their barracks, with a massive display screen on the far wall and several complicated stations with sprawling control panels. Each station had a smaller screen, honing in on one part of the arena or another.

The big screen showed a wide shot of the grassy field, or what remained of it. Song was impressed to see that there weren't even many people left in the marred arena itself. It seemed the fighting had moved towards the doorway and the arming hall. Song smiled to herself to think of the slaves helping themselves to weapons and kicking the guard's asses. Would the turians be helping? The krogan? Even the asari were mostly missing. Would they work together or would conflict arise?

“Hey!”

Song had hesitated for only a moment to watch the screens, but it was enough. Five reached back and grabbed her wrist, yanking her out of the doorway and turning her invisible at the same time. He'd gotten very good Song realized as she staggered to keep her feet. Though it started with her arm, in seconds the invisibility surged up her body until she looked down and saw nothing but emptiness and corridor floor. It was deeply unsettling and she almost made a sound, but clamped her lips shut.

It didn't matter. The younger muu click-clacked his way to the doorway and there was no chance that Five could hide them all.

Rae let out a shrieking battle cry and pounced the unfortunate probable-intern the moment he appeared. She drove her sword down just above his collarbone. He gasped, staggering to the side, eyes wide with pain and terror. His biotics bubbled around him but they were uncontrolled, lashing out uselessly as he sagged against the door frame, Rae's sword still stuck deep into his flesh.

Song gaped for a moment, her invisibility fading as Five withdrew his hand. The young muu was wearing a simple, white head covering with no colored trim. He was barely an adult and had no authority. He was a nobody, Song thought with an unwelcome twinge of guilt as he slid to the floor, all four legs folding awkwardly under him. He let out a gurgle and twitched spasmodically, eyes rolled back in his head.

Song didn't have long to pity the youth as the adult muu; the cruel game maker and torturer, ran to the door. She started in horror at the crumpled, jerking form. Rae yanked her sword from the young muu's body and turned, staring down the other. In a different time and place Song might have taken a moment to be impressed with the little drell's ferocity. Instead she too aimed her weapon at the torturer.

“What the hell is this?” The muu's biotics sprang to life. Song felt all her hair stand up as the muu drew on her power. “How the fuck did you get in- never mind. You rodents need to get back to your cages! NOW!”

Song's feet left the floor as the muu's biotic field enveloped her. Her wrist gave a twinge, just to remind Song exactly what this woman could and would do.

Before the muu had a chance to break any bones, however, Brute surged into the room, sending her staggering back to get out of his way. “Bear slightly right!” Song instructed, hovering just near enough to see her korgan friend as Brute smashed bodily into the muu. They both crashed backwards, slamming into a control panel. The metal dented visibly under the onslaught and sparks sprayed.

Song hit the floor with an 'oof', then scrambled to her feet, polearm in hand.

The muu writhed under Brute's grip as the krogan refused to let up, pressing the game maker relentlessly into the panel. Her biotics coiled violently around her, lashing out at her attacker, her surroundings, anything within reach. Brute ignored every blow as though he didn't feel it. The game maker was unable to pluck the relentless attacked from her and she gasped, a small splash of blood dribbling from her lips.

Cale stepped in beside Song, watching the scene with mouth slightly agape. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Brute, come on! We need to go. She probably hit an alarm, and guards will be coming.”

To Song's surprise the krogan let up, leaning back from the muu, who sagged limply against the panel, gasping for breath, clawing at her almost certainly cracked carapace with her thumb-less hands. Her biotics sparked sporadically. She bared her blunt teeth at them. “You won't get away with this you slave trash! You'll be put back in your box, and when you are, we'll kill you. One by one. And it'll be slow.”

“Really?” Song, who had begun to back away with the others, turned back to the muu, tilting her head and letting her expression fall into her indifferent mask, perhaps for the last time. “Because yours is going to be quick.”

She knew exactly where the muu heart was located. Lifting her polarm so the tip touched the muu's unprotected abdomen, her muscles tightened and she drove the blade in deep, feeling the damaged carapace crack and shatter to accommodate the sharpened metal. Biotics crashed over Song like a wave and her feet slid back against the floor, but she drove the pole blade in deeper. Faintly, as though from a great distance, she heard Rae shouting at her. She wasn't certain if it was in encouragement, horror, or simply that they were taking too long. Song gritted her teeth as the electric sting of the biotics rattled over her skin and penetrated to her core. She twisted the polearm as hard as she could.

The biotics died and the muu crumpled into a heap of blood and ruined flesh. Song jerked her polearm free and snapped it back to read position, panting. Her muscles ached from the biotic onslaught and her hands were shaking, but as she started down at the creature at her feet she felt a glorious sense of victory she didn't think she'd ever had before. It was like a golden drug pumped into her veins. It was what she imagined freedom would feel like. Maybe this wasn't it. Maybe freedom was even better. She turned back to her friends and her knees buckled.

Cale grasped at the polearm, half holding Song up. He snatched a medigel from his belt and before Song could protect he jabbed it directly into her chest. She yelped in surprise, but then relaxed as the healing gel did its work, easing the strained, biotic-damaged muscles. She drew in two big breaths, then stood, driving herself to her feet even if she wasn't entirely recovered. She looked at her team, Five and Cale, gaping at her as though she had grown a second head. Brute and Rae wore different expressions. Rae's eyes were fierce and she was smiling grimly, looking as though she was considering kicking the dead muu. Brute looked... proud? Had she made him proud? The feeling of joy, impossibly, increased. She felt like she was floating, no biotics required.

“We need to go!” Five said, snapping them all back to reality. “Like Cale said, the muu probably called for guards and we haven't even gotten to the lift yet.”

“Wait,” Song raised her arm, looking around the room, filled with faintly glowing screens and controls meant to be manipulated with biotics.. With a grim smile Song marched up to the panel beside the one where the dead game maker slumped. She turned her polearm around, and brought the butt down with all her force. She did it again and again until metal bent and sparks flew.

The others caught on and, perhaps against their better judgment, came crashing into the room. Cale guided Brute to stomp his huge foot down on one panel while Five sent his daggers flying into every crack, prying tech away and sending sparking pieces flying like tiny fireworks.

Rae ferreted bundles of cords and sliced them, ignoring Song's concern that some of them could be power cords and might electrocute the young drell. The image of Trick's body twitching on the grass was still fresh in her mind.

Panting and filled with an odd, exhilarating energy, Song looked back to the big screen. Most of the other screens were dead or showed static, but no one had gone after the big one yet. Now the arena could be seen for what I truly was. A huge, domed room dotted at regular intervals with holo-projectors, like tiny orbs that still let out tentative little flashes of the light that would become a battlefield. The floor of the arena was in bad shape where the salarians had sabotaged it. She wondered how long they had worked. How long they had plotted and laid out their hidden traps and explosives. Tech that the slave masters had given them thinking it made for good viewing. Perhaps Grey Team had fit their role too well.

“Are we done? Can we go?” Cale sounded vaguely annoyed, even though he had joined the destruction. He lead Brute back to the doorway and peering out.

Even inside the room Song could hear the shouting of guards. People were heading for the control room. Yellow had outstayed their welcome, as if they had ever had any welcome at all.

“Yeah, we should leave” Rae agreed, slashing one last bundle of cable as she darted for the door. The big screen went black.

As Yellow Team piled out into the hallway, past the intern in his growing pool of blood, they found themselves faced with a small contingent of guards. Only five, Song counted hastily. Song's eyes drifted from the guards' shocked faces to what they held in their hands. Not stun batons. Guns.

“Shit!” Song gasped, suddenly frozen in place, still grasping her polearm as though it would make an ounce of difference.

The guards, for a good few seconds, were obviously as baffled by the scene as Song was by them. They stared from Yellow Team, to the dead muu, to the control room, clearly trying to put together a puzzle they never expected to find.

Fight or retreat?! Song's mind demanded as she took one breath. Two. Wasting time. All of her muscles seemed to be at war, some begging to throw her backwards, others braced to charge.

In the end, Brute decided them once again. His thoughts seemed to be in much more agreement than Song's as he surged forward. The point of his one-krogan battle line.

Shots rang out, punctuating panicked screams as Brute hit the guards' line. They had not bee expecting a death charge and most of their fire missed completely. Song wasn't certain of the rest because it didn't slow Brute down at all. He mauled through their ranks, smashing them against walls. He even ripped off a limb. Song decided she could have gone her entire life without seeing that in person as blood sprayed and muscle tore. The sound the man made was feral, completely outside of his control. It made Song's teeth ache.

Two of the guards had managed to back away and get their guns aimed to fire again as Brute ripped their buddies to shreds. “FIVE!” Song shouted, pointing.

The salarian acted quickly, his daggers swooping towards the two guards. Song's shout had drawn their eyes, however, and two quick 'BANG's sounded. Hot pain sliced Song's side and she heard Five yelp. His dagger kept true, however, and one guard found himself skewered through the eye while the other staggered back, clutching the dagger that protruded from his throat.

“You know,” Song hissed as she put her hand to the wound in her side, feeling her hot blood already sliding between her fingers, “you don't get extra points for kills out here.”

“Sure you do,” Five's voice was equally strained. “The bonus is, they're never going to shoot at us again.”

To punctuate that sentiment Brute crushed the only guard who was still moving against the wall with a sick 'crunch'. The man slid to the floor in a bloody heap. He looked like a doll a child had worn to rags and tossed aside.

Song turned to Five, who was already pulling a medigel free from his belt. His abdomen was splattered with green, but he was still standing so she assumed the bullet must not have it anything too vital.

Teeth gritted she glanced at the graze on her side. Should she try to keep going with it to save medigel? Who knew how many gun toting guards they'd encounter on their way. She looked up at Brute, who stood panting amidst the wreckage of bodies. She could make out at least three bullet holes peppered across his wide torso, but he too was still on his feet.

The burning in her side was intense and Song decided that, while she could keep going with a wound like that, she might slow them all down, so she unclipped another of her medigel. She had, after all, accumulated quite a few. Cale had the least, and she wished Septimus was with them, sporting possibly the most medigel of the bunch.

Would the turian be able to find them? Song glanced back the way they had come, seeing nothing but clean, empty hallway. It wouldn't be too difficult for Septimus to follow them, Song decided. They had left a sizable path of destruction, so as long as he realized where he was and went the right direction, Yellow Team wouldn't be too hard to follow.

Brute took a few steps then slumped against the wall, fumbling clumsily for the support he couldn't see. Song jammed the needle of her medigel into her side, just above her wound, ignoring the pain as the gel emptied from the canister. She threw it to the ground and joined Brute, grasping his arm. “Medigel?” she said, half command half question.

“It's not that bad,” Brute grunted.

“You have several holes in you,” Rae countered, coming around the giant to look up into his sightless eyes. The drell snatched a medigel from Brute's already dwindling supply and twisted the ring, aiming the needled at what seemed to be the worst of the holes.

Song stood in front of Brute with her hand on his shoulder, in case he decided to just start walking. Not that she could have physically stopped him if he did, but she hoped her presence would be enough. She looked up into his scarred and blood splattered face. It was impossible to tell what was his blood and what belonged to the guards he had turned to putty in his grasp. Song clucked her tongue as Rae took out another medigel. The wounds closed, the bullets inside being pushed out, falling to the floor with metallic 'tink' sounds.

“As useful as it is to have you taking point, we should probably come up with another plan if we encounter more guards with guns,” Song said as she watched another stained bullet hit the floor.

“Have slim do it,” Brute said, his voice breathy, but disjointedly jovial. He jabbed a finger over his shoulder in what he must have assumed was Five's direction. The salalrian, who was standing to the side, didn't bother correcting him.

“The bullets will go right past me, I'm so scrawny,” Five finished the joke, moving to pick up one of the guard's guns. He gingerly turned it over, keeping his finger far from the trigger. “Anyone know how to use these?”

“Yes,” Cale stepped around Brute and took the gun from Five. Turning away from his friends he settled the weapon in his arms, then grinned back over his shoulder. “Advantage of having so many humanoid guards, these guns are designed for us.”

“I can use them too!” Rae announced, finishing with brute's injuries. Song was distressed to see that there were now zero medigel canisters hanging from the krogan's belt.

“I don't know,” Five raised a brow as Rae scooped up another of the fallen weapons.

“Oh fuck yes!” the drell crowed, aiming down the empty hall. Song had to admit that the drell did look natural with the weapon. She nested it expertly against her narrow shoulder and checked the sight before turning the gun to flick several switches on the side. “Damn. No incendiary ammo.”

Cale turned to her, bother eyebrows high on his brow. “Who ARE you?”

“I run stolen merch... well I used to. It's dangerous. I've known how to shoot since I was eight.” Rae cocked her hip, gun barrel pointed at the ceiling. “Never used one quite like this, but it's similar to some others that have passed through my hands. Sometimes Havra and I would help ourselves to little... rewards from a stash or two. Aria never found out.” She winked.

This was the first time that Rae had referred to her sister by name, Song realized. What had Havra been like? Had she raised little Rae all by herself to become this strange, fearsome person? Song decided it might be better not to bring it up. Their drell was in a good mood and she certainly didn't want to squash it, especially now that Rae was holding a gun.

“We should move,” said Five. He stepped gingerly over the bedraggled corpse of the guard he had taken the gun from. “Maybe we'll actually get somewhere this time. Anyone got anything else they want to smash while we're here?”

“I may have gotten my share of smashing for a while,” Song said, setting Brute's hand on her shoulder to follow their friend.

“There's more of these,” Cale pointed out, gesturing to the weapons still clutched in the limp grasp of the dead.

“I'm fine,” Five flicked his hand and his three daggers slipped soundlessly into the air, hovering like a deadly halo around his head.

“I don't know how to shoot and we don't have time for a lesson,” Song eyed the fallen weapons with mistrust.

“Give me one.” Brute held out his hands, chuckling low at his own joke. Song rolled her eyes, but let her friend's bizarre good mood. It was as though she and her team were out for a pleasant stroll, not fleeing for their lives. It felt like freedom already to be striding through the Transmisphere, even if there were potentially more guards at every turn.

With Cale and Rae taking point, Five in the middle, and Song leading Brute at the rear, their little party continued on, following the sterile corridor until the carnage of the guard attack was out of sight behind them around a bend.

It didn't take them long to reach the elevator. Five stepped up, activating the call button as Rae and Cale flanked the doors, ready to shoot whoever might be inside.

The doors slid open revealing an empty lift. Yellow Team piled in. In the small space everyone's enthusiasm was even more palpable. Song's heart was doing a strange new dance she didn't think she'd felt before. Was this what freedom was supposed to feel like? Something between the desire to whoop and hug everyone, and a panic attack?

As the lift doors closed, Five pressed the symbol that would take them to the docking bay level. Song couldn't help but smile at the panel. It was made to be friendly towards multiple species, so it had raised buttons and images to show the locations you could chose from, as well as words. No wonder Five had had such an easy time operating it before. He hadn't even needed to use biotics.

The lift began to move and Song's stomach flipped, though she wasn't certain if it was the motion or her excitement. She felt like Rae; unable to keep from bouncing with energy.

Behind her, crammed into a space not meant to accommodate a krogan, Brute grunted. Song tilted her head in his direction, catching what might have been a flash of pain on his face. Her brows came together. “Alright?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He whispered back, not wanting to draw the other's attention. “It's just too cramped in here is all.”

Song glanced at Cale, hoping he wasn't too spooked by the tight space. He didn't look happy, but seemed to be able to tolerate it, with freedom on the line.

The doors opened again, Rae and Cale aiming their gun barrels out into the waiting hallway. This one was wider than the last, designed to accommodate a great deal more foot traffic. And foot traffic there was. Distantly, a monotonous alarm was going off, as well as an announcement in three muu dialects, all of which Song could understand.

“Alert! Alert! All guests please return to your ships! Do not interact with any slaves! Return immediately to your ships and leave the station until the situation is dealt with!”

Over and over the warning looped. Song and company stared at the throng of muu civilians in their muted, pastel robes, various headdresses flapping. There were even a few children, Song realized with horror and disgust.

Sprinkled amongst the mob of fleeing muu were guards wearing lost expressions. Biotics flared as various muu vied to be the first through the hanger doors to reach their ships. The guards were attempting to keep order, and failing.

“What do we do?” Cale asked. They had piled out of the elevator, but were still several yards from the teeming mass of slave owners.

Song chewed her lip. They needed to get to a ship and they sure as fuck weren't going to blend in with the crowd. “I think we're just going to have to go for it.” “Cale, Rae, on either side of me. Five, stick with Brute. Look scary.” Once they had managed this formation Song gestured to Cale, who shot a single bullet towards the ceiling It lodged, not ricocheting dangerously, much to Song's relief.

When most of the people in the hall turned, eyes going wide, Song brandished her polearm as though it were every bit as dangerous as the guns her friends were holding, facing the throng with the fiercest expression she could muster she stood tall. “If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of our way!”

“Look! It's Yellow Team!” A muu child pointed, tugging the robe of his caregiver. Song suspected that a slave, perhaps a human, would be waiting for this little boy at home. Waiting to raise him just as Song had done for Asla. “Look look!” the child went on, trying to get their panicked parent to appreciate the situation. “There's Five! He's my favorite! He can use biotics and not many salalrians can, right?”

The muu the child was pawing hurriedly shoved him behind herself, hushing him as best she could.

“You have a fan,” Cale hissed with amusement to Five.

“The Game Makers did say I was a favorite.”

“We're leaving, get clear!” Song ground between clenched teeth. For the moment both civilians and guards were staring, earnestly frightened. It wouldn't last. Possibly the guards would be unwilling to fire with so many people around, but all those muu, even ordinary ones, could easily biotically grab and hold all of Yellow Team without much trouble. Muu culture demanded they not use their powers against one another. Song could only hope their lack of practice in that regard would keep herself and her team safe.

“CLEAR. A. PATH!” Song commanded. It was the same as when she had taken back control of her team in the dining hall. Perhaps the muu were so baffled by this shouting, dominant slave that they didn't know what to do. They would have no plan in their mental playbook for something like this.

BANG!

Cale toppled backwards with a cry.

One of the guards had recovered faster than his fellows. Song was near enough to the front line of Muu that she could easily slice at them with her pole and she threatened, backing them away from her even more aggressively. Now biotic energy was sparking to life as the muu realized that perhaps they had the power after all. Song sliced the air with her weapon, not daring to look back to see if Cale was still alive. Instead she roared. A guttural, feral sound that sent the muu cascading away from her. As though she had some secret, hidden power they couldn't counter. These were soft muu. Slave owners used to compliant workers, used to being obeyed. They bought and sold people like trained animals and had never imagined that those animals might have teeth.

“Take out the guards!” Song roared to her companions as she surged forward, threatening. How long before they realized all she had was essentially a sharpened stick? Seconds?

Gunshots rang out, echoing in the wide passage. Several guards dropped, as others attempted to get clean shots. Muu near the guards were also hit with stray bullets, but at this point it didn't matter. It only served to inject more terror into the mob.

One of the guards tried to make his way through the crowd to a communication box in the wall. He soon found a dagger sprouting between his eyes. He reached up slowly, numbly, to feel the strange object before it was unceremoniously ripped free and he crumpled to the floor, blood gushing.

“I can help,” Brute snarled. For the moment he was holding position in the rear, but Song could sense his explosive energy, even from where she stood. She knew he wouldn't stay put for long. Most of her didn't care if the giant crashed head first into the mob of fleeing muu, but part of her remembered that there were children. Asla's face flashed in her mind. Asla who had grown to be just like her parents, even if she had been raised by a human. Song had taught the little one everything she had needed to know of muu culture, customs, rules and ways. Yet, if Asla appeared before her now, a young woman, having just earned her first headdress for finishing her higher education, would Song be able to strike her down?

More gunfire. Bullets from the guards ripped past Song. Their aim was bad. They were fighting against a struggling mass of spooked muu after all. Already Yellow almost had a clear path to the docking bay, the doors standing open, beckoning with the promise of escape. “Get out of here! GO!” Song shouted at the milling muu before her. “Leave us alone and you'll live!” For emphasis she sliced at the nearest muu. An adult male with a head-covering that marked him as a politician. She left a shallow gash in his side and he gasped in horror and pain, sending a ripple of fresh panic through the mass.

Against all odds, and perhaps all logic, the muu were still retreating. Song imagined it couldn't be her bravado alone that pushed them back. Brute, still behind her, must have been standing tall, looking like a very angry mountain that might tear your arms off. Not a single one of those muu would have seen a krogan up close before and it showed.

Song gestured with her pole towards a sleek, wide door she'd spotted through the crowd. “Get in there,” she commanded, hoping that the door didn't open onto a bathroom. If so, things were going to get a little crowded.

Another bullet grazed past Song. She felt the heat of it on her cheek and her head jerked back, but she quickly straightened again, glaring at anyone who would meet her eyes, trying not to let her panic show. Medigel could cure a lot, but a bullet in the brain was almost certainly not reparable without surgery. Seconds later the guard was picked from the crowd, falling to be trampled underfoot. Rae was a regular sniper, Song realized with a mix of admiration and unease.

The door Song had indicated opened to reveal what appeared to be a meeting room. It would do. Song and her team forced the muu and remaining guards inside. They were still rather cramped, pressed up against the walls and already complaining. The door slammed shut after the last muu and Rae shot the control panel. “Hopefully that'll keep it sealed,” Song muttered, examining the smoldering tech.

“At least until other guards show up,” Five said, gesturing to a security camera that had likely captured the whole scene.

“There are quite probably krogan loose in this station,” Brute pointed out with one of his low, punctuated chuckles. “I expect they're busy.”

“Guys!” Rae's voice had lost it's barvado as she got their attention. The group turned.

Song's eyes went wide. Cale was on his feet, an obvious bullet wound below his ribs still oozing blood down his abdomen. He wasn't alone. Ric stood behind him, half supporting him, baton poised over Cale's injury. Though the guard was shorter than Cale. He had managed to pin the inured pilot's hands behind his back and the threat from the baton was enough to keep the swaying Cale from trying anything.

“You think you're leaving?” Ric asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered around Cale's shoulder.

“Yes.” Song's voice was deadly. After all, she'd just chased down and entire crowd of muu.

All three of Five's daggers slid through the air, hovering menacingly around Ric like deadly bees. The guards was maneuvering Cale so their backs were to another door beside the lift that Song' hadn't even noticed. For a moment she wondered where it led before she snapped herself back into the moment. Her brows came together, creasing a line between them. “We're leaving, Ric. There's nothing you can do about it.”

“Call off your gimmick salarian,” Ric snapped, gesturing with his eyes to the floating daggers. “One slip and this baton gets jammed right into his wound!”

Cale made a little pain sound and Song winced, gesturing for Five to stand down.

“What can I do?” Whispered Brute.

“Nothing for now,” Song hissed back. “This is not a situation we can solve with a krogan death charge.” She tilted her chin back up, fixing Ric with a level gaze. “What do you want?”

“To return you to your pen. All of you. You didn't really think you'd be able to escape did you? Better teams have tried.”

“Every team at once?” Song smirked.

“This may be a new situation, but we're going to deal with it the same way, and it starts with me!” There was a manic tone to Ric's voice and his eyes shone with that violent glint they had when he dove into a dinner-time scuffle. A flash of insanity, of something deadly hidden under his unassuming demeanor. “Either you come quietly- and I mean quietly- or Cale here will never see his husband again. And he'll die painfully.”

Cale gritted his teeth, his face already pale from loss of blood. That was something medigel couldn't fix, Song knew. Her friend met her eyes and his look said 'go' while hers responded 'no'. Song opened her mouth again. She had to find some way to convince this person who had been their ally, perhaps even a friend to them once, not to give in to his sadistic side. Instead of her voice there was the sound of another gunshot and both Ric and Cale dropped to the floor.

Song blinked, baffled and stupid for the barest moment. Behind her Brute shifted, flexing his muscular arms, anxious to charge in but knowing Song was somewhere in his way. “What happened?” the blind krogan demanded.

“It's okay, Old Man.” Nara was standing over Ric's limp form, the pistol in her grasp now pointed at the ceiling. “I dealt with him.”

“Cale?” Song convinced her feet to move at last, forcing her body out of the tense, locked state that seemed to be her default today. She surged towards her fallen friend, already unclipping a medigel from her belt and twisting the metal ring. She didn't even care if Nara was there to threaten them next. Let her try. Beside her both Rae and Five charged to cover Cale as well.

As she knelt over Cale, checking him for any other wounds, Song looked up at the tall guard. Nara smiled grimly pulling the scar on her face taught. “Why?” Song asked.

Nara shrugged. “Because fuck 'em.” She gestured to the station around her. To the muu within. “Because I figured out a while back that I'm not paid enough for this shit. Because people who have fought their whole lives should get to retire quietly, not be forced to keep going.” She looked meaningfully at Brute, who stood where Song had left him, though his sightless eyes were aimed in Nara's direction. “Because none of us deserve this.”

The medigel went to work on Cale, who was seemingly otherwise unharmed. Song glanced over her fallen friend to the limp figure of Ric. His face was twisted in a grimace of death, his mouth slightly open. A wad of pink gum had fallen from his lips to the floor. Song looked away. She still couldn't place the corpse laying beside them with the young man who visited their table most mealtimes. Who joked with them and gave them hints in the arena. In her mind she separated them. That Ric was a different man. One she would allow herself to remember with sad fondness. That man had died before this Ric attacked them in the hallway.

Grasping Cale's hand Song hauled him, grunting, to his feet. She met Nara's pale blue eyes. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Cale turned, still leaning against Song for support. “Thanks.”

The tall woman nodded curtly, then jerked her head in the direction of the docking bay. “Get going. More guards will be coming.” She cocked an eyebrow at Brute, then crossed to him and touched his forearm to let him know she was in front of him. “See you around, Old Man.”

“I won't,” Brute joked, and they both laughed, though the sound was hollow. Like the imitation birdsong from the arena. Brute slid his hand up Nara's shoulder and neck to find her face. He gingerly traced her features. She closed her eyes, letting him.

Song and the others stood by, watching this moment of serenity, of peace. It only lasted perhaps half a minute, but it felt like the promise of something better. Ships were waiting for them and soon they'd see the stars at last.

Narra stepped back from Brute, gave his arm one more squeeze, then turned and darted away, jumping over Ric's body as though it were merely a speed bump.

“Well....” Cale said, his arm draped over Song's shoulders. “That sure was... something.”

“Yeah it was,” Rae agreed, taking Brute's hand and placing it on her shoulder. “Let's go. Our ship awaits!”

Yellow Team turned to face the open doors to the cavernous hanger bay. Only one more challenge stood between them and the open sky, Song thought with a victorious little thrill. They could make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the end of this chapter seemed a bit rushed. That's because it was LOL. Trying to get these out to you one time, kiddos! At this point I can't guarantee the next will be out next monday, but we can hope. Hope springs eternal. Just like with Song and her team as they stand on the cusp of finally getting free! Will Song finally get to see her stars? Stay tuned!
> 
> As always feel free to comment any thoughts you have. Especially as I am strongly leaning towards turning this into a stand alone book when I am finished with it.


	30. Circle in the Stars

Chapter 30  
Circle in the Stars

The docking bay was even more massive once the friends stepped inside it. Song couldn't remember ever being in a room so big. Several dinning halls could fit inside. She felt infinitely tiny and she almost laughed because she wasn't even out in space yet.

The bay was crowded with ships, but as Song looked them over she realized with a sinking feeling that they were mostly sleek, muu vessels. Not much for speed or distance, more a symbol of family status than anything. Still, they were space worthy and they'd have to do. She could make out a couple of comparatively fat, rusty slave ships at the far end of the bay, near the hangar doors. They were a long way off, and likely to still have slavers hanging around them.

She looked up at the nearest muu vessel. Slender, angular and dramatic. The hull was so new the white paint hadn't even chipped. She glanced at Cale. “Think you can fly one?”

“I can fly anything,” Cale said, puffing out his chest and grinning cockily. “Although,” he amended his enthusiasm, “didn't you say you need biotics to fly a muu ship?”

“I can help with that,” Five pointed out, peering suspiciously around the landing gear of one of the ships.

“And I don't read muu language, so Song is going to have to help too,” Cale reminded them.

“Where is everyone? No pilots?” Five asked.

“Most muu fly their own ships. All these craft are owned by private citizens,” Song explained.

“Damn...” Cale exhaled, brows raised. “If I had one of these I think I'd be making payments on it for the rest of my life.”

“One of their planets is metal rich.” Song shrugged, reaching up to run a hand over the smooth hull of the nearest craft. She saw the name painted on the side in clean, concise muu script. She rolled her eyes almost affectionately. It was called 'The Ship'. “They have slave labor so costs are low, and you know only the truly wealthy could come here to watch us kill ourselves in person.”

“I wonder if anyone's ever done that, kill themselves in the arena I mean,” Cale mused, rubbing his chin as he looked 'The Ship' over. Walking into the hangar it felt like a different world. With distant, echoing walls and silent ships around them, it was as if they team was already free. As though they had all the time in the world to pick out the perfect ride. Cale glanced at Brute, who hung back with Rae, listening. “Has anyone ever done that? Gotten into the arena and just stabbed themselves right away?”

“People have,” Brute nodded. “It's odd, but when you're in the arena it's different. Maybe it's because the muu have us trained. They had me trained for sure. Once you step off your pad the survival part of your brain takes over. Suddenly you want to fight and win.”

Song wondered at this as she moved around 'The Ship' trying to find the gangway access panel. Even Brute, who had wanted to end his life, still played by the arena's rules and waited for the enemy to slay him there. Maybe the muu really did have them all brainwashed. Was there something in the food? She doubted it. It was likely just conditioning, and the nature of the people the muu chose to enslave. They sprinkled just the right amount of incentive, the right amount of hope, into the mix. Turian 'clan before blood', human ingenuity, salarian tech savvy, asari skill, and krogan brutality, all of it working towards survival above all. “Here we go!” Song called, her hand tracing over the control panel that would drop 'The Ship's' gangway.

“We're not trying for one of those?” Rae pointed to the dumpy slave ships at the far end of the hangar.

“Do you feel like fighting a bunch of pissed of batarians while more guards come in after us?” Cale asked.

“A little.” Rae folded her arms, but said nothing more.

“I don't like this either, but these ships are right here and easy to access, right Song?”

“I think.... I think this needs biotics to open,” Song said, fumbling with the panel. It was flush with the side of the ship and no matter how hard she pressed her fingers against the icons, nothing happened.

“What kind?” asked Five, stepping forward.

“I think just... hit it with a little biotic bubble.”

“That's it? No secret code or anything?” The salarian produced a tiny orb of blue energy and sent it hovering towards the spot Song indicated.

“The muu don't steal from one another and the batarians don't have biotics.” Song shrugged. “Why lock down a ship when there's no danger?”

“Fair enough,” Five said.

The biotic bubble bellied against the panel for a moment, spreading like a blob of fruit paste, reminding Song faintly of how hungry she was, before the panel gave a little 'bleep' and with a faint hiss of hydraulics, a gangway began to lower before them.

“Well damn.” Cale peered up into the ship as the ramp moved slowly down towards them. “I hope flying this thing is as easy.”

“Might be, I've never flown one.” Song said, feeling a slightly unhinged smile threatening on her lips as she looked into the waiting ship's belly. In a few moments they'd be inside and free to fly away... if they could get past the bay's hangar doors. She didn't want to think about that for the moment. One obstacle at a time.

“SONG!”

Song turned, the ragged cry ripping her from her moment of hopeful happiness like a bandage torn from a fresh wound. Her eyes went wide as she saw Septimus running towards them, guards hot on his heels.

Gunshots.

Song felt the heat of two bullets pass her before one buried itself in her hip. She almost went down, but sheer, stubborn will, or perhaps dogged shreds of what hoped remained to her, kept her on her feet.

Brute had turned around to face the oncoming fire, simultaneously pushing Rae behind him. The drell hadn't been hit, but Song knew Brute must have been. Her heart was thundering in her ears, almost too loud for her to hear the desperate cries of her team. She stood for a moment. Too long. Staring at the oncoming turian and his pursuers. Someone grabbed her arm, forcing her to take a step back. The bullet hole in her hip screamed with pain and she bit back a cry of her own as her weight shifted.

Another bullet found her, ripping through her shoulder. Her mind was going distant, like she was falling backwards down a well, her vision tunneling. Was someone scooping her into their arms? Cale perhaps? That was stupid, she could walk on her own. Couldn't she?

Her hands, which felt oddly numb and disconnected from her body, fumbled for a medigel. That was all she needed. Just a little medigel to see her right... except she couldn't see to grasp it properly, and the person who was carrying her kept moving and... where was Septimus? Brute? Was Brute alright? If she was hit twice, how bad was he?

Cold floor, her back against a wall. Song fought to keep herself conscious as pain threatened to push her under. Had one of the bullets clipped something vital? Was she hit somewhere else? Finally her hand wrapped around a medigel canister like a lifeline. Her fingers worked on their own, turning the metal ring. Her mind caught up like a band snapping back. White walls around her, a few flashing lights. She must be inside 'The Ship'. They'd done it. They'd escaped... right? So where were her friends?

Someone bumped against her and Song looked up, vision swimming. Five. He knelt above her, grabbing the medigel from her hand he injected her, just above the hip wound. She couldn't help it, she yelled. Five may have said something reassuring, but he was drowned out by gunfire, shouting, and the ringing in Song's ears.

The chaos seemed to go on forever, and yet it was over in a moment. The gangway was closing again. Had the guards been killed? Not all of them, she surmised, as two more bullets zipped through the closing gap and struck the wall near her. Now that her head was clearing she understood that someone had picked her up and deposited her inside the ship. Had her whole team made it? Five was there, sagging against the wall, but still standing. She caught the flash of blue as he too injected himself.

“Fuckingsonofabitchshittingfuck!” That was Rae. Well, she was still alive and as pissed off as ever, Song thought with a wan grimace of a smile.

Cale swam into her field of vision and he was half dragging, half carrying Septimus. The turian looked rough. He was covered in blue and Song hoped that not all of that blood was his. Cale settled Septimus' limp form beside Song as best he could. There was blood on the pilot's clothes as well, but Song guessed his wounds were already healing.

“We need to get to the bridge. We need to go.” Cale mumbled as he caught Septimus' lolling head and rested it against the wall. “Five, can you get this door to stay shut? We don't need any guards getting in here!”

Song felt Five's biotics faintly, as though from a great distance. Her mind was still a fog that she fought to wade through. To reach her friends. Her lips parted to mumble instructions to Five, but instead she turned her head towards Septimus. “Is he?” She pushed herself to her knees beside the turian.

“He's alive. Lost a ton of blood though.” Cale ran his hand over his stubble, leaving a streak of red along his head. “This is some escape, huh kids?”

“Maybe we should have stayed in the arena,” said Five, his voice shaky as he worked on the door. “It was safer.”

Song pushed herself to her feet, her back against the smooth wall. Outside she could faintly hear the guards attempting to get in. Without biotics they'd have a hell of a time, but Cale was wise to get Five working on a lock. She wanted to stay with Septimus, but she knew that she too had a job. Her shoulder roared with pain and she reached up absently to press her hand to the hole the bullet had torn through her.

“Don't be stingy, use your gel,” Cale instructed, as he looked up and down the corridor they'd found themselves in. “Song, do the muu usually have their command center at the front of the ship?”

“Yeah,” Song managed before spitting blood on the floor and hoping it was because she'd bitten her tongue and not because she was bleeding internally somewhere. She didn't admit that she had only been inside a muu ship twice in her memory. The first time was hazy, long lost. When she had been bought and brought into the family where she would spend her teenage years and much of her adult life thus far. The second time... her family had sold her. She remembered sitting quietly in a little seat they'd given her, her hands folded politely, head down. She had kept her face as calm as ever, trying to rationalize the situation. Certainly she'd go on to another family with a child that needed rearing. She'd miss Asla, she'd miss Bright Eyes and all of her friends at home, but it wouldn't be so bad. She'd learn a new home. Make new friends. Now she looked up into the bloody faces of her found family. She supposed she had been right about one thing.

Her mind was finally free of its injury induced fog and reminiscence, and she realized there was one person she hadn't heard from yet. She turned, catching sight of Brute and Rae at last. The krogan was, somehow, still standing, though his body was a mess of bullet holes and blood. Rae was fussing over him.

“They usually have a small emergency medical room,” Song told the drell, her voice already getting stronger. “Near the middle of the ship I think. There'll at least be more gel and some bandages.”

“Right,” Rae nodded firmly. “I'll take care of these two, you go fly us out of here before the guards get someone with biotics to come open the door.”

Song turned on her heels and jogged behind Five and Cale as they made their way through the sleek little ship towards the command center. Song let out a breath of relief that her was right about its location. It was a smallish bridge and they crammed themselves in with some difficulty. There was one station at the front with a large panel and various screens set before the front window. Another station off to the side, smaller with only one screen, probably for a navigator.

“Well this is going to be awkward,” Cale griped, obviously struggling to keep his tone jovial as he took in the pilot's chair that awaited him. It was really more of a stool, obviously intended for a muu, who had long torsos and forelimbs. He gave his friends the closest thing to his cocky grin that Song imagined he could handle at the moment, then plopped down on the uncomfortable seat and frowned at the panel before him.

“Five, get on Cale's left, you're going to follow his instructions and use btiotics to fly us. I'll be on your right, Cale,” Song said, sliding in beside her friend, crouching and gripping the panel for balance. She scanned the various silent readouts and dials, all meant to be manipulated with a minimum of physical touch. “What do you need first?”

“Thrusters would be nice,” Cale said, gazing over the panel with a lost expression. “Damn, I should have taken a course on reading the muu language with my free time here.”

Five snorted with laughter and Song's spirits lifted fractionally. Her friends were rallying, were becoming themselves again, even after recently being shot at, and probably shot. She let her own smile slip. If they could figure this out they'd be free. Truly free. She knew the transmisphere had no external weapons, why would it? There were no fighter ships parked in the bay and she doubted the slavers would hustle to fly out and shoot them down. This was it. This was finally it!

Song squinted. Everything was written in a kind of shorthand she wasn't familiar with, and combined both picture writing, letters, and word symbols. “Wait. There! Those must be thrusters!” she pointed.

“Alright Five, bring them up easy.” Cale said, voice tightening again.

Five frowned with concentration as he worked the controls. His tongue poked out from between his lips and he spread his long fingered hands before him, as though he was using the panel himself.

From somewhere in the ship there was a rumble and a faint hiss. The vessel tipped, lurching to one side. Song gasped and Five let out a yelp as they were all pitched to the left, trying their best not to interfere with the salarian's biotics. “No, no, this is good!” Cale said breathlessly, grasping the panel to haul himself upright. “Now I know a little more about what we're dealing with. Okay. Five, see this readout here? Keep those two bars even if you can.”

After a moment the ship evened out. Cale crowed, pumping a fist in the air. “Alright! Good! We can make this work! Now... I think these must be forward thrusters, so give those a try-- gently!”

In moments 'The Ship' began to move. The nose dipped slightly as the rear thrusters fired, but after a moment Five and Cale worked out how to keep things in balance. With an exciting lurch they aimed the nose of their new vessel towards the big doors, beyond which lay the beautiful void. Star be-speckled freedom.

“What do we do about the door?” Five asked, voice taught with concentration.

“I have a hunch,” Cale said, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes and making them glint with wild glee.

“A hunch?' Song asked, peering ahead as their little ship hove its way down the landing strip, headed straight for the big doors at the end. “Do we have to send some kind of transmission? Ask for permission to leave? I can get on the con... as soon as I figure out where it is and-”

“No. Watch.” Cale pointed.

To Song's amazement the big doors began to open, like a mouth revealing, not deadly teeth, but the expanse of purple sky. “The hell?” Song exhaled as they slipped past the slaver ships. She glanced at one of the screens to catch a view of the batarians, watching placidly as 'The Ship' passed them. No doubt they saw and heard the angry guards trying to chases the vessel down, and clearly they didn't care. Song thought she saw one flick a cigarette casually in their direction. She supposed that these unscrupulous people planned to track them down later. How much more money could be had that way? After all, how far could a gaggle of untrained slaves poorly piloting a muu ship get? 'Farther than you think' Song grinned grimly as she turned her attention back to the waiting stars.

They were doing it! The force field that kept the atmosphere in the docking back from pouring out stretched over them like a film of white light and they were suddenly free. Born into space, a perfect child.

“How... what?” Song managed as her eyes drank in the deep hues of the waiting galaxy. Each star a possibility, a promise.

“I figured the doors would open automatically,” Cale shrugged, drawing Five's attention to something on the control panel with a gesture. “The muu would never expect their slaves to try to fly away. Getting into the station probably requires passcodes, but getting out? Nah. The muu are very trusting of their own after all.”

“But wouldn't the guards have called up to the command deck to block our exit?” Song cocked an eyebrow.

“Well sure, but there are krogan loose on the station.” Cale grinned. “They're busy.”

“Song?” A small voice made Song turn. Rae was standing in the doorway to the little bridge, covered in both blue and red blood, looking shaken and wide eyed. “Someone... I need-”

“Go,” Cale gestured vaguely at Song. “Five and I have got this. Easy, Five, we're drifting starboard.”

 

“We're who?”

“We're drifting to the right. See this readout? Yes. Keep that needle pointed directly at this symbol. Nice! Okay.”

Song eased herself away from her friends so as not to jostle them, and hurried to Rae's side, following the drell through the ship, her heart in her throat. Moments ago her joy had been uncurling like a slumbering dragon inside her, raising its head, eyes filled with starlight. Now black dread seeped back into her chest as she entered the tiny medbay.

It was really more of a closet, with a patient bed that was made for a muu, and which Rae hadn't managed to get either of her charges onto. There was a large, metal medkit on the wall and it had been opened and gutted. Tools and supplies littered the floor and it looked as though the drell had blasted the kit open with her new gun rather than figuring out the latch. There was charring on the wall and a faint, metallic smell in the air. Blood, both blue and red, streaked an alarming amount of surfaces.

“What's going on Rae?” Song asked, looking from the slumped form of Brute, propped against a bulkhead, to the blood spattered heap that was Septimus. Her heart fluttered like a frightened bird, but she swallowed the fear down. Be practical. They were free, she could certainly help Rae deal with whatever medical issues she was having.

“It's Brute,” Rae sniffled, hugging herself. Her grime smeared face was tracked with tears and her lower lip trembled. “He helped me get Septmus in here and then he just collapsed. He was touching my face and talking about leaving and I panicked...” She hauled in a trembling breath.

Song squatted in front of Brute. He was very still, breathing shallowly, sightless eyes closed. She leaned forward, gingerly touching his arm, He was a mess of dark bruises and freshly sealed bullet wounds. She thought she saw more blood than the bare skin of his face as she positioned herself in front of him. There was a fresh crack scored deep into the protective boney plate on his head and she couldn't tell how deep it went. “Brute?” Song asked, her voice trembling faintly.

He stirred, taking in a low, hitching breath. His eye fluttered open, but remained heavy lidded, duller than usual. A trickle of blood escaped his lips and ran down his chin. “Song?”

“Yeah,” Song's own voice was tight, but she tried to keep it even. She squeezed his arm firmly. “Yeah, it's Song. I'm right here.”

“I'm...” Brute took in a long, strained breath. “I'm glad it's you.”

“What's this I hear about you scaring Rae with talking about leaving?”

“It was... It wasn't meant to scare her. Only to prepare her. Song... I can't keep-” He coughed, more blood dribbling from his lips.

“Medigel!” Song snapped at Rae, unable to keep the tremor from her voice now.

Brute reached his other hand and grasped Song's where it rested on his arm. “No. Medigel only does so much. There are things it can't repair.”

“But you... you have redundant organs! A second heart. Fours lungs!” Rae piped up, already holding a canister of gel in a loose grip.

“That makes me strong, not invincible.” He smiled thinly then winced. “Song?”

“Yes,” Song leaned in, pressing both hands into his. Tears were threatening in her eyes now, but she tightened her lips and held strong.

“I... I want you to know I didn't chose this. I wan... I wanted to be free. For the first time in years I didn't want to die. I wanted to visit those stars you told me about.”

“Well-” Song choked, but pressed on fiercely. “We're free now. Nothing around us but stars, Brute. And they're beautiful. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen!”

“Even more than my handsome mug?” Brute's abrupt laugh made Song's heart twinge painfully.

“Maybe not,” She said, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. She didn't dare take her hands from Brute's to wipe her eyes. Behind her Rae sniffled loudly.

“Oh, it's alright little sister,” Brute's soothed, tilting his head towards Rae. “Everything comes to an end... even krogans.”

Rae made a choked sobbing sound and dropped to her knees on Brute's other side, burying her face in his chest. The big krogan made calming, hushing sounds for a moment, freeing one of his handsfrom Song's and resting it on the top of the little drell's head.

“Song.... big sister, watch over this one, eh?” He tilted his chin back in Song's direction. “She's... she's not as tough as she pretends to be.”

“I will.”

Brute let out a gasp and for a terrifying moment he seemed to be choking for air, tipping forward and retching blood and bile. It was Song and Rae's turn to make soothing sounds as they tried their best to comfort him. Finally he managed to draw in a full breath, reaching up towards Song. She caught his hand, but he shook his head faintly. “Let... let me see you.”

Hesitating, Song released his hand and it found her face, bumping gently against her cheek. His fingers floated gingerly over her features. She closed her eyes, remembering the first time he had felt her muscles, how much she had wanted him to think she was strong. Now she hoped more than anything that he would find her somehow beautiful. Somehow worthy. His thumb traced over her nose,his fingers over her cheekbones, her lips, lighting for a moment on each closed eyelid. He traced her high brow, the stubble of her hairline. Finally his arm fell back and he took a moment to breath, as though even this little gesture had stolen all his energy. “Not bad looking, for a human,” He managed a faint chuckle.

Song's reciprocatory laugh was more of a choked sob.

“I... I raised many young krogan I thought of as my sons in that arena,” Brute said, his voice breathy, quieter than she had ever heard it. “I watched them die over and over, but now... now I have two daughters. You will live and... be... free...”

“Brute?” Song leaned down, trying to catch him as he slumped back, head lolling. “Brute? C'mon! Please? Brute?” His eyes had gone distant. Not the same sightlessness that they usually held, where she could see his life force behind them, bright and burning as a star. Now they were grey, looking on through Song into whatever lay beyond this life.

Rae slumped, sobbing into her hands. Song sat back on her heels, her heart empty. It no longer squeezed as though held in a vice. Instead it seemed to have vanished all together, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. It was more excruciating than a thousand bullets. She couldn't breath, couldn't think. She clasped her hands over her head.

Something surfaced in her mind. Like a golden bubble rising to the surface of a still lake. Something so long forgotten she hadn't even known it was hers. A voice, gentle and deep. Hands that held her. Dark eyes she looked up into, and a song. A song the voice used to sing. Her lips parted, and before she knew what she was doing the words tumbled out of her.

She hadn't heard her own singing voice since before she'd left home. That was a lifetime ago. But now, now the words of an impossible tune, voiced in a human language even she didn't entirely understand, spilled from her shaking frame, strong and true, and perfect. They ran through the whole ship, took it over, claimed each corridor and blood spattered bulkhead.

“One by one their seats were emptied  
One by one they went away.  
Now the family is parted.  
Will it be complete one day?

Will the circle be unbroken  
by and by, Lord, by and by?  
In a better home awaiting  
in the sky, Lord,  
in the sky...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week was hella crazy, and it looks like next week plans to be similar. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I also hope I made you at least a little sad as well. I hope to have your next chapter in two weeks so you can find out if Septimus will pull through, and what will become of our little family, flying through the stars at last!
> 
> The song: (A slightly different version from the one Song used, but you get the idea) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMB_Ms_4WeU


	31. Star Map

Chapter 31  
Star Map

“That was beautiful.”

Song, whose head had dropped to her chest as the last notes left her, unbidden and unexpected as the first, jerked to attention. Septimus was conscious.

The echo of Song's song still reverberated through the ship, the sound of a past she couldn't truly remember. Her father was there, slumped on the floor, dead; not a faded memory of brown eyes and an old tune.

She fought the sob that rattled in her bones as Rae dropped to her knees and gave in to her own sadness. The drell clasped her hands over her face and crouched beside the still figure of Brute, not caring that she knelt in a drying pool of his blood. Song gritted her teeth against the emptiness in her chest and rocked back on her heels, pivoting and turning her attention to the wounded turian.

Septimus was propped between the biobed and wall. He looked like even more of a mess than Brute, but his eyes were brighter, his life-force still strong within him. Song was secretly glad for something alive to look at. She knelt beside him, studying him cautiously. “Are you alright?”

He laughed, one chuffing sound that was more of a cough. “Honestly. No. I'm alive I suppose... and we're free. We are free aren't we? You weren't just saying that because Brute...” His words cut off in a choked sound.

“No,” Song hurriedly reached out and caressed his jaw, bringing his gaze up to hers. “We're free. Right now. We're among the stars. Cale and Five are flying this ship and we're never going back.”

“Good,” Septimus sagged. He couldn't have been remotely comfortable there on the floor, but Song doubted he would have felt better on a biobed designed for a muu. He looked as though a single movement, perhaps even raising his head, would use his last ounce of energy. “Look... Song... I,” He hesitated, watching her with that same, impossible, sweet shyness that she had come to appreciate in him. “I'm pretty fucked up and I don't want you to see me like this...”

“Too late,” Song's lips tightened into what she desperately hoped was an encouraging smile. She wasn't certain her face recalled the expression any more. “Are you still bleeding anywhere?”

“No,” Septimus exhaled, seeming to surrender. He likely didn't have the energy to push her away. “Rae fixed me up. I'm more medigel than man now.” Another laugh, this one more true. “My arm is... pretty bad though.”

Song looked down at his limbs. He cradled his left arm in his right and Song had to bite back a gasp. While the medigel had stopped the bleeding it could do nothing for shattered bone and twisted muscle. Just below the joint of his shoulder Septmus' left arm was utterly shredded. While the gel could heal a few bones like Song's wrist, it was obvious that there were limits to its power, and the limit had been reached with what remained of Septimus' arm. Song wondered if they had even done more harm than good, stopping the bleeding and clumsily repairing tattered flesh before the bones could be reset by a professional. “Oh god, Septimus,” Song moaned.

“It's okay,” he said breathily. “I can't feel it.”

Song opened her mouth to say she doubted that was a good sign, but one look in his eyes told her he knew. He knew and he was struggling to be brave for her. So she set her jaw and gave him another smile. “Once we get out of muu space we'll go find you the best doctor in the galaxy and get you fixed up.”

“I'd settle for the second best at this point.” Septimus' mandibles managed to lift faintly.

Song cupped both sides of his jaw and brought her forehead to his, holding him as though he might break apart and she was all that kept him together now. What would keep her together as the cracks in her ripped open, her light pouring out, her pain borrowing further in? Immediately she thought of Brute and nearly lost her resolve then and there. But Septimus shifted and raised his good hand to cradle her cheek, to hold their foreheads together even if it must have been incredibly painful for him.

So Song rallied. Again she forced herself to be whole even as everything screamed for her to fall apart. Blinking as a few stray tears escaped her eyes and made tracks in the grime and dried blood she knew covered her cheeks, she sat back, taking Septimus' good hand. “Do you have the energy to tell us what happened after you left us in the arena?” she asked.

Nearby Rae's sobbing quieted to a whimper. Obviously she too wanted to hear, even in her grief. 

“I was...” Septimus winced and Song did her best to arrange him into a more comfortable position. Once he was settled he pressed on. “I was able to free most of Green Team myself. One of the others watched me work the cuffs several times and was able to help. Then... then Brute would be proud because I went over to Red. I tried to explain what was happening with all the chaos, and there were guards everywhere, but I got a few of them free. Two even did what Brute did and broke their own cuffs, but I think they hurt themselves pretty badly in the process. Once I convinced them that I should keep all my limbs intact and the guards were who they should kill – I dropped Brute's name a thousand times to keep them off me-- they finally went on the attack against the game makers.”

“Did you free the asari?” Song asked, tucking herself in beside Septimus, half supporting him as he leaned into her.

“I thought about it, but another salarian explosion reminded me I had things to do. I tried to keep clear of the fighting, but my freeing of the turians and krogan had put me right in the middle of it. You should have seen Empress, though.” Septimus' eyes lit up. “She took command of everyone. Even the salarians and krogan were listening to her. The Muu were throwing people around, but with so many charging krogan in the mix and so much chaos, they couldn't get a hold of everyone at once. It wasn't like the dining hall where they could take people by surprise, and all of us were armed.”

Song felt a little thrill of victory spark in her chest. “Did you stay to fight at all?”

“I probably should have. Instead I made my way to Empress, who had gotten her hands on a stun baton was causing serious damage of her own. I shouted to her that Yellow Team was escaping and Green could too if they followed me. I don't know if she even considered it. She turned to me and I saw that hard look in her eyes that I've seen so many times before. Clan before blood.” He balled his good hand into a fist and raised it in a weak salute. “The muu hurt her people time and time again and I think her desire to punish them was stronger than anything I've ever felt. She shouted that they'd stay and see themselves out through the front door.”

Song choked on a half-laugh, imagining the turians taking over the station. Perhaps they really could do it. With Empress in the lead and flanked by highly motivated krogan.

“I came after that. Headed to that hole in the sky you made. You even left me a ladder-”

Rae let out a choked sob. “Brute left you the ladder.” She managed, squeezing her arms around herself, not even bothering to wipe the tears streaming freely down her bright cheeks.

Septimus paused for a moment, his keen eyes fixed on Brute where he lay. After a moment he whispered, “His spirit is here. Everyone, everything we know and love has a spirit, and Brute's... it'll never leave us.”

Song hugged Septimus gingerly, careful of his ragged arm. She pressed her cheek against the top of his head, letting her own tears slide down onto his crest. “How did you pick up the guards that were chasing you?' she asked in a voice that was stronger than she'd expected considering that her throat felt like she had swallowed a handful of nails.

“Ah, that. Bad luck.” Septimus chuckled dryly. “I was following your trail. You made it easy enough. Did you really have to kill everyone in your way?”

“Yes.” Rae's eyes flashed. “Or they would have killed us.”

“Fair enough.” Septimus' mandibles flicked out in a weak smile. Song wondered if she really had needed to kill the the female game maker. Would she really have been able to cause that much more harm? She had already called for the guards after all. Then she remembered the muu standing, sadistic and expressionless, as she tortured Yellow Team. Song's jaw went tight. That kill had been necessary too.

“Unfortunately for me,” Septimus went on “The station was swarming with guards by the time I got out of the arena and I can't turn invisible like Five. I had my bow, and I managed to do some damage.” He heaved a sigh and Song noticed for the first time that his weapon was nowhere in sight. “I ran out of arrows and couldn't stop to reclaim them because I was preoccupied with not getting shot. So I hit a guard in the face with my bow, and it was knocked out of my hands. I had to leave it. I know I only had so much time to join you before you flew off without me.”

“We wouldn't have flown off without you,” Song said, though a chill rushed down her spine as she realized she wasn't at all certain. In that blissful moment of finding a ship and knowing that, at last, they would be out amongst the stars, would she really have stopped and waited? For how long? Her cheeks heated with shame as she held her lover. She didn't deserve the man in her arms, but she couldn't let him go. She let herself brush her lips against his brow. “So weaponless... you just had to make a run for it?” she prompted.

“Yes,” Septimus nodded, his fringe sharp against her collarbone. “I knew I was going to be shot, so I preemptively jabbed myself with a medigel and took off. I knew was was near the docking bay so I just ran... I saw a couple guards trying to get a door open across the hall... was that you as well?”

“Yeah,” Rae perked up marginally. “Song chased a whole pack of muu into a little room.”

“Brute helped,” Song said before she could catch herself. She knew that the krogan was probably the whole reason they had survived, not only the arena, but in their escape. Why hadn't they been able to keep him alive? Her heart squeezed again into a little fist of pain.

“Then I got to the bay and saw you all getting that ship ready and the rest you know.” Septimus looked down at his shredded arm and sighed. “I suppose it's better that is was an arm. If it had been my legs I wouldn't have been able to reach you.”

“We would have gotten you,” Song said, this time with absolute certainty.

“Song?”

All three occupants of the little medbay jerked in surprise as a new voice crackled to life. Cale or Five had figured out the intercom system. The pilot's voice radiated from a little grate above the awkward biobed. Rae scrambled to her feet, giving Brute's corpse as wide a berth as she could, before climbing onto the bed and squinting at the comm. “Hello?” She said, her lips almost pressed to the grate.

“Jesus, Rae, why are you so loud?!” Cale's voice came back.

“Sorry,” the drell rocked onto her heels, still balancing expertly on the biobed. “What is it?”

“We need Song, is she available?”

“Yes,” Song said, gingerly extricating herself from Septimus. She didn't want to leave him, but if her friends needed help flying the ship, that took priority. “Do you want to be on the biobed?” she asked Septimus once she had slipped free of their embrace. “Rae and I could get you up there before I go.”

Septimus cocked a brow at the bed. “I think I'm fine down here.”

“Right,” Song squeezed his uninjured shoulder. “I'll be back as soon as I can. Rae-”

“Look after him. Yep.” The drell was sitting on the biobed now, tucked up and hugging her knees. Her expression was bordering on blank and Song stood, grasping Rae's ankle.

“Please don't slip into a memory lock again, Rae. Please? We need you.”

“I...” Rae tucked her head down to wipe her freshly flowing tears on her knees. “I won't. Septimus and I can talk. We'll talk and that'll keep me here, in the present.”

“Sounds good,” the turian agreed breathily.

“I'll be back, alright? I just have to help the boys.” Song tilted her head to look into Rae's eyes, finding them red rimmed and puffy, but still bright and present.

“Right.” Rae sniffled.

Before she left Song opened a few of the drawers that covered the medbay's left wall and soon discovered a thin blanket. She draped it over Brute, covering his face and at least some of his body. She supposed it was better than nothing. Better than constantly looking into his hollow eyes and hoping this time there would be life behind them. She had to swallow hard to fight back with tears that threatened to become waterfalls down her cheeks. Setting her jaw she forced herself to march out of the room and wove her way back up to the bridge.

“What's up?” Song asked as she joined Five and Cale. She had managed to get her face mostly dry by the time she reached them. Immediately her eyes were captured by the deep expanse of space and shimmering diamond stars that she could make out through the front view-screen. Her breath caught as she took in the sprawling beauty of space. It was somehow everything she had dreamed and infinitely more, and she wanted to see every bit of it. To drink it in with her soul.

“Was that you singing before?” Five asked, angling himself towards her from where he crouched by the ship's controls.

“Hmm? Oh... yeah.” Song shrugged, coming back to herself. “You could hear that?”

“Yeah. Goddamn, Song, why didn't you sing more often? It was gorgeous!” Cale said, turning away from the various readouts he was monitoring to look at her.

Song blinked at him for a moment, her exhausted mind floundering for a good answer. None came, and Five filled the silence. “We need your help. If we're going to get out of muu territory and back into council space Cale says we need a star chart. We can't figure out how to find it.”

“Ah,” Song squeezed herself into the limited space beside her companions, scanning the muu writing and symbols stretched across the sweeping control panel.

“This ship isn't very fast, and I've been taking what I hope is a route that slavers won't immediately guess, but if a batarian ship decided to overtake us, they wouldn't have a hard time,” Cale said. “Our best bet is to track down a Mass Relay and get out of here as soon as possible. Even if it's a relay the slavers could figure out we'd use.”

“Mass relay?” Song asked, eyes flicking up from her search to meet Cale's.

“You've never traveled by mass relay?” The pilot blinked at her in shock.

“Maybe, when I was first taken as a child. I was too young to remember.”

“They're how we get around out here.” Cale gestured to the stars. “Rather than traveling in stasis for years or figuring out how to get faster than light travel, we just hop on a relay and it shoots us wherever we need to go... well, it shoots us to another, connected relay.” Cale grinned. His cockiness as back full force and it felt like turning your face to a warm, spring sun just to stand near him. Song couldn't believe she had once for her friend's sometimes overpowering energy annoying. What a different world it had been.

Song dragged her eyes back from Cale's smiling face and scanned the panels again before stepping away to check the rear station. “Here we go,” she said after a moment. “Galaxy map. This must be the navigator's spot.”

“Right. Five, can you open the map for me?” Cale asked.

“Open the map, fly the ship, do I have to do everything around here?” The salalrian snarked. Though he was as sassy as ever, Five's voice did sound tight with weariness and Song wondered how long he could keep going. He'd worked to make his biotics stronger, but would it be enough for such prolonged use? She felt his biotic energy brush her cheek as Five activated the panel Song had indicated.

Song gasped as a three dimensional star map washed over her, bathing her in holographic outer space.

“Nice!” Cale exclaimed. “I love this kind! The ones that are just on a screen aren't as accurate. 3 dimensions are better. He struggled up from the awkward pilot's chair and joined Song, waist deep in projected stars. She held her arms clear. Though she knew it was only a hologram, it reminded her of being in dark water and her breathed hitched with unease.

“Five, keep us steady for a moment,” Cale instructed as he waded into the star map, hand on chin as he considered the view. “Where are we...?” he mused, eyes flicking to each bright point on the map.”

“Here?” Song reached out and indicated a white arrow with her finger. The map sprang to life, zooming in on the arrow so quickly Song could have sworn she felt the current of projected light as it whooshed around her thighs.

“That's us alright,” Cale beamed. “Shit. We haven't made it far. Look. That's the Transmisphere.” He pointed, careful not to touch the map itself so it wouldn't zoom in on the hateful station.

Song shuddered just looking at a representation of their prison before she focused her attention back on their little vessel, carving its snail's path through the stars. She wondered what the scale of the map was, as they didn't seem to have gotten even a thumb width away from their vile starting point.

Cale was turning around and around, stepping out of the way of stars and planets, scanning for whatever a mass relay looked like. Song, having the location of the Transisphere, and thus the planet it orbited, traced a quick route back to the muu home world. The place she had spent the majority of her life. Now, standing as she was in a sea of stars, the little, green gem of a planet did not seem so grand. She wished she could touch the icon and zoom in close enough to see the planet's churning weather patterns or trace the lush jungle, which was both beautiful and practical, protecting muu homes from the full force of the hurricane winds. As she imagined her home she could almost hear the sound of rain pattering against the wide leaves of the batoran tree. Slowly she pulled her attention back to the galaxy in which she waded. Each point of light a star, alive and blazing. Each duller orb a planet. Would she visit them all, or refuse to ever let her feet touch soil again? She had a choice. Her heart did a back flip. She had a CHOICE.

“Here we go!” Cale jabbed a finger at a small object, hovering alone in the inky blue-black if the map. “One mass relay. There's not another for light-years.” He clucked his tongue. “That'll be the one the slavers use, and there's a good chance it'll be guarded.”

“But this is a muu ship, right? They won't suspect us... will they?” Five asked, his voice raspy with exhaustion. Song thought he too might have liked to explore the map, if he had not been so preoccupied keeping them flying.

“I doubt many muu head for the Milky Way,” Cale said, squinting at the icon. It looked like a toy to Song. Not big enough to be a space station. Just an oddly shaped object sitting quietly in its nest of stars, not even orbiting anything. She felt she might pick it up and turn it over like an interesting bauble. That thing was supposed to send them hurtling through space? Cale stepped around the relay to check the surrounding space, still muttering to himself. “They have slavers to get whatever they need, and considering they're abducting council races, we can assume they want to stay out of the Milky Way.”

Cale tapped the relay and space rushed past Song again as the hologram magnified. Cale tapped the mass relay, which was now as large as his hand, again, and several text boxes appeared, hovering before him. “Song?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Song tightened her lips into a hard line for a moment before speaking. “I don't know most of these symbols. My guess is that they stand for place names we could travel to... I... wait-” she squinted. Gingerly she reached out and tapped one of the options that hovered before her on a holographic menu. The words shifted, changing shape and lettering at her touch. “There we go.”

“Galaxy common!” Cale cheered.

“I saw the 'translate' option.” Song beamed, feeling prouder of herself than she thought she ought to.

“Do you suppose they have that option for the rest of the controls?” Asked Five, craning his neck to see behind him, squinting at the map that took up a generous portion of the bridge.

“No,” Song sighed. “Maps like this were probably designed outside the muu systems. They wouldn't have eliminated translation functions. Why bother?”

“So we're lucky the muu are lazy?”

“Not lazy. Practical,” Song countered, catching herself. A bitter taste rose in her throat. Was she defending the people who enslaved her, even a little bit? She shook her head tightly to clear it. No, they were the people that had enslaved her, but she had also learned their culture, their traits, even their history. All of this could be useful. Humans could be practical too.

“Looks like this relay connects to several points in the Terminus Systems. No surprises there. It's outside council space and is prime hunting ground for the lawless of the galaxy. Like, say, batarian slavers looking to bring in a tidy profit.” He grimaced. “I hate Terminus, but beggars can't be choosers, and Rae might know her way around. Her old boss, Aria, has a bit of a... presence in that area.”

“Alright, so we go there.” Song folded her arms. “What then?”

“We hope that pirates don't notice this sleek little ship we're squatting in and strip it, leaving our corpses to float in space.” Cale said, casually tapping the image of the relay again, this time eliminating the option menus. His voice was so calm that Song wondered if they really were doomed and he had simply resigned himself to it before any of them even realized the danger.

“Oh, piece of... what was the human word? Piece of Kek?” Five raised his brows.

“Cake.” Cale corrected. “And friends, when we get out of this I will make you all the biggest, most chocolate filled cake you ever ate, and we'll sit on my back porch and enjoy it as we watch earth's sun set over the trees.”

“Cake is food?” Five snorted. “I suppose that's why it is easy to defeat.”

Cale burst out laughing. Song wasn't entirely certain why, but it was contagious. Soon she and Five had joined in. The laughter took the sharp edge off of her ever rising anxiety and sanded it back down to something manageable. An outsider would have looked at the three of them and declared them all insane. Song didn't care as she held her ribs and laughed too loud and too long, and suddenly she was sobbing. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks and she struggled for each ragged breath as unexpected, uncontrolled sobs wracked her body.

“Hey, hey,” Cale's laughter was gone, his voice gentle as he reached for her. In seconds she was pressed against his chest, held firmly in his well muscled arms. Her nose was filled with the smell of his dried blood and sweat. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, still not able to stop crying. “What's wrong?” Cale asked, cheek against her shoulder.

“Brute-” She choked. “Brute's dead.”

“What?” Five's voice was high and filled with worry.

“He died. He...” she gasped in a breath, filling her spasming lungs against their will. “He was too hurt. Medigel wasn't enough.”

“But he's a krogan.” Song could hear the disbelief in Five's words. “Nothing kills krogan. You have to drop a fucking planet on a krogan to make a dent.”

“He was old,” Cale said, slow. Song could tell he was forcing himself to grasp what she was saying. Not letting his mind reach for denial, as Five's was. “He's been injured thousands of times before.”

“That's... well that's bullshit!” Five snapped. The ship made a low sound as her engines powered down. Then Five was there, wrapped his arms around her too. Song was sandwiched between the two men with-whom she had started this entire horrible adventure. As they embraced her- embraced each other- and let the sadness of the moment wash over them all, Song felt more protected than she ever had. She nestled her head down against Cale's collarbone. These were her brothers. As long as they were with her, nothing bad could happen. She let herself imagine it. Let herself believe it.

She had no idea how long they hugged before they broke apart again. It seemed right, that moment when they all disentangled from one another. Almost planned, as though they had each known exactly how long the others needed to be held. Five turned back to his control panels without a word, the ship's engines surging to wakefulness.

Cale rocked back on his heels, swiping dampness from his eyes before clearing his throat and putting on his usual, cocky grin. He pulled it off, even through the tears. Song's smile pulled weakly at the corner of her mouth. He wore that expression as skillfully as she had her own, blank mask. The mask she'd unknowingly promised herself never to don again. Cale put his hands on his hips, “Alright! Mass relay, here we go! You watch, we'll be back in council space by breakfast!”

~~~~~

Cale's assessment of their travel time turned out to be highly inaccurate. It took them two days to reach the relay. In that time Song and Rae went through ever nook and cranny of their little ship, tracking down any food they could. Rations were thin on the ground. The owners of the vessel had clearly not planned on anything but daytripping. To make matters worse, while Song and Five and Cale could eat the food, Rae and Septimus could not. The turian was doing his best to be strong, but Song could tell he was waning.

Five was exhausted from flying the ship all day. Something a muu would have been able to do without blinking. Song wished she had some way to relieve him.

When she wasn't sitting with Septimus she appointed herself in charge of monitoring the sensors. She's located the readouts in their second day and there was no 'translate' function, so it was up to her to watch for any sign that they were being followed. It appeared that they were not. At first this news seemed wonderful. As the days passed, however, their little crew grew suspicious. Had the slaves really been able to take over the station? Had they thwarted every muu attempt to reclaim it? It was possible, Song supposed. The muu didn't have soldiers, but they did have fighters, police, guards. People with heavy weapons and the ability to clear a station with their more finely trained biotics. Could the slaves hold against that? It was possible that the muu would simply bomb the entire structure and have done with it. She tried not to think about that as she sat, gazing dreamily at the stars.

On the second day they had also found a small lounge with windows that looked out onto space. The chairs were marginally more comfortable and even reclined. While they were not designed with any other species' comfort in mind, several of the little crew had found ways to sit and even sleep. The lounge became their living space. They brought all the medical supplies there, leaving Brute covered in the medbay. There wasn't anything else to do with him.

~~~~~

“We're approaching the mass relay! Song, I need you on the bridge!” Cale's voice through the intercom was laden with worry.

Song, who had been cuddling a barely conscious Septimus in the lounge, got to her feet slowly. Rae was asleep nearby, curled up in one of the chairs, but Cale's call woke her. She blinked blearily as Song moved towards the door. “What-?”

“Rae,” Song turned, giving the drell the best encouraging smile she could muster. Rae's skin was losing its vibrant color and her eyes were heavy lidded and rimmed with purple. “Strap yourself in, honey, okay?”

“Honey?” Rae snorted, even as she slowly began seeking out the safety harnesses for both herself and Septimus.

“Sorry.” Song's mouth quirked into a more genuine smile. Rae was still sassing back. Things weren't at their worst yet. The drell had fought bravely not to let herself slip into memories and Song and marveled at how much raw determination fit into such a smile body. “I'm going to the bridge. We're almost there!”

“Almost home,” Rae said, certainly, her sunken eyes flashing.

“Right.” Song agreed, but she turned and walked out the door before Rae could see her unease. Perhaps they were approach someone's home, but Song wasn't sure if it was hers.

Song dog trotted to the bridge, ignoring her leaden limbs and her hollow, complaining stomach. Immediately her eyes were captured by the sight of the 'mass relay' on the main screen. It didn't look like a toy any more. A hulking metallic frame that was somehow intimidating and fragile at the same time. Almost majestic, like some great creature curled on its bed of deep purple space. She had no idea how this thing was going to propel them through space, but she supposed that, as long as Cale knew, that was what mattered. Unfortunately, hovering around the relay, were several blocky batarian ships, like guard dogs. “Oh shit,” Song breathed.

“Not yet,” said Cale, quietly, as though the slavers could somehow hear them through the ship's hull and the vacuum outside. “They haven't acknowledged us yet. This could be fine.”

“Right.” Song hugged herself, moving to her self appointed station were she checked her scanning screens. She could see each ship as a little, red, blip, still and waiting as their own white arrow plowed lazily onward.

“Song...” Five's hands were stretched over the controls. He was getting so good at flying that he almost didn't need Cale's instruction, though no one would suggest that to the pilot.

“Yes, Five?”

“Does this ship have weapons?”

“No.”

“What about shields?”

“Only light ones, meant to protect from objects in space, not weapons fire.”

“Oh. Good.”

Song and Cale both snorted mirthlessly at Five's assessment. All three leaned in, watching the still hulks of the batarian ships hovering. Song guessed that she and her friends had been brought to the Transmisphere in a ship just like them. Even one of these, for all she knew.

“Don't panic, Five.” Cale breathed.

“I'll try to fly casual,” the salarian shot back, smirking.

A light blinked on a control panel, and a faint beeping sound filled the cabin. “They're hailing.” Song guessed, examining the controls beside the light. She gestured for Five, “here. Audio only.”

“Right.” The salarian nodded and used his biotics to triggered the comm.

Clearing her throat Song spoke before either of her companions could, using one of the common muu dialects. The one she knew so well that her accent was almost undetectable. “Greetings. This is the muu vessel 'The Ship'. We are going to use the-” what were the words for mass relay? She floundered. “Mass relay” she said in galaxy common, hoping against hope that the muu just used the common name.

There were some scrabbling sounds from the other side of the speaker. Song's smile quirked. No doubt they were trying to figure out if any of them spoke enough muu to talk to her. After a long moment someone spoke up. Song almost laughed as whoever it was struggled. “You far from... house? Home. Why come here?”

“We need to use the mass relay,” Song said, letting the barest hint of annoyance into her inflections. If a muu was expressing any anger at all, it meant they were actually livid. She hoped these batarians had worked with the muu long enough to know this. There was a faint tapping sound. Perhaps entering her words into a manual translator.

“Why... use mass relay?”

“They want to know why,” Song hissed to her companions.

“Trade business? Family cruise? What would the muu be doing?” Cale asked in a whisper.

“Exploration.” Song leaned back towards the comm. “My friends and I are on vacation and we wish to explore the wonders of the Terminus Systems.”

“Dangerous,” warned the batarian.

“We know. Dangerous can be fun.”

“You... have...not weapons.”

“We know.” She edged a bit of haughtiness into her tone this time.

The batarian paused and Song heard muttering. Clearly the slavers were trying to decide how much of this was 'their problem'. If a pack of suicidal muu wanted to wander into the deadlier parts of space, was it really their job to stop them? Song exhaled a long breath. If they were talking this over it meant that the slavers had likely not received any transmission from the Transmisphere warning them of an stolen ship piloted by escaped slaves.

Song's palms were slick with sweat and she realized that she was digging her fingernails into them too hard. She flexed her hands open, her wrist twinging faintly. It had clearly taken her too long to treat the break and she suspected the little bones would ache periodically for the rest of her life.

Finally the muttering at the other end of the line stopped and the clumsy speaker returned. “You go. Have fun.” This was followed by laughter from the rest of the batarian crew.

Five hurriedly turned off the comm, staring wide eyed at Song. “Damn, did that just work?”

“Fly!” Song snapped, her muscles tight, her blood rushing as though she were in battle again. She could almost feel her polearm in her hands. She pictured it where she had stowed it, stuffed into an empty closet with the rest of their weapons, waiting for her.

“Here we go!” Cale crowed, excitement leeching off of him and infecting Song and Five all the more strongly. “Full thrusters, Five. Bring us up beside the relay like this-” Cale demonstrated the action with his hands. “As we approach it'll automatically ping us with our choices for connected relays. Don't back off the speed. We'll answer with the location we talked about and BAM!” he slapped his felt against his palm. “Off we go!”

“Right” mumbled Five, all his considerable focus locked on the task at hand.

Song hung back, filled to the brim with buzzing energy, but unable to help further. She wished she could take Five's hand, but knew he needed both to fly. She watched in awe as the batarian ships continued to ignore them, one even slipping out of their way with more glace than she expected form such an unattractive vehicle.

'The Ship' sailed by at its usual, unhurried top speed, drawing up to the relay. Just as Cale said, the relay interfaced with their computer, like a friend reaching out for a handshake. The options for destinations appeared, in several languages, including common, and Cale selected one. Song had no idea what any of them meant, so she ignored this, eyes fixed on the relay. It had sparked to life. Twin rings that had previously been as still as the rest of the relay were spinning now, picking up speed. Flashes of strange electricity arched and Song flinched.

“Don't slow down!” Cale ordered, eyes alight with wild enthusiasm.

A bolt of what looked to be lighting reached out and grabbed 'The Ship'. Before Song could reacted her stomach lurched, the ship seemed to stretch impossibly before her eyes, and with one, mighty heave, as though they were a ball being hurled by a child, the stars around them changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are more typos than usual today. I edited this last night rather quickly before bed. I've also been obsessed lately with a short story (about zombies) I have been pecking away at so I don't know if you next chapter will come out next week, or the week after. I'd say brace yourselves for it to come out in two weeks. I WILL finish this, but my will power is weak when it comes to new ideas popping into my head LOL
> 
> That said, you will be able to read my zombie story on my Wattpad when I finish it!


	32. Rilix D'naran

Chapter 32  
Rilix D'naran

“What the FUCK was that?” Five choked, eyes wide as he stared at an unfamiliar sky. Their little ship was still tucked along side what appeared to be the same mass relay, but Song guessed that this was an identical one. The massive, spinning rings were settling back to stillness as though they had been blown by some interstellar winds.

“I need the galaxy map again!” Cale said, scrambling around madly, nearly knocking his two friends over in the cramped cockpit.

“Wait, wait, here-” Five reached and activated the map, sending holographic space spilling in around Cale's hips.

“Okay, I can work with this. Uhm...Right, we're not too far from Omega station. Not my first choice, but definitely somewhere that would allow me to make a few vid calls. Plus Rae might know her way around. Yes! This is good! Oh this is soooo good!”

Song let Cale chatter, tilting her head to see out into the strange space. She could almost touch it. Those foreign stars in their bed of endless black, tinged with the smokey pink of a nebula. She imagined she could swirl it with her outstretched hand, sending it spilling like oil and water. Beside her, Five too was transfixed. His shoulder was touching hers and, before she even thought to initiate it, he had twined his long fingers with hers. They no longer faced a deadly arena, but now a new unknown stood before them. Two slaves who had never handled this much freedom.

“Five! Five Five Five!” Cale barreled into their moment like a comet, exploding with excited energy. “I need you to get flying, buddy! We've got a space station to get to!”

“People won't care that we're flying a muu ship?” Song asked, stepping back to let the eager pilot take her spot.

“Most of them have probably never seen one. Which...” he paused and winced, “could be an issue. We look like a very shiny target for pirates.”

“Pirates?” Song asked. Her eyes flicked to her observations station. The little arrow that was 'The Ship' was still a lone object in space. At least for the moment.

“Pirates are people who want to steal our ship, take our things, and probably sell us back into slavery.” Cale explained and he squinted at the controls.

“Oh, I'm liking this new place already.” Five snorted mithrlessly. His voice was breathy and his rust colored skin was ashy. Song guessed he was teetering on the edge of exhaustion. Could he even get them to the station Cale was talking about?

“Should I get Rae? She knows this space right?” Song asked. In reality she also wanted to check on Septimus, and she knew that the view of this beautiful new space would be easiest to see from their little lounge.

“Yeah, good idea.” Cale shifted back to wade through the star map again, hand to chin, manic concentration etched onto his features.

Song swept through the map and, with one more encouraging look to Five, who had turned to meet her eyes, she hurried off down the tight corridors to the lounge.

Rae was more than happy to go to the bridge. The news that they had done it, that they'd arrived in Terminus, had her bouncing. Her old ferocity was beginning to shine again on her face as she darted for the door, a wild grin on her face. “Just you wait, Song! I'll find us all the best places! There's this bar I need to take you all to, it's great!”

“Maybe let's focus on not getting snatched by pirates first,” Song said, unable to keep herself from smiling along. She had no idea what a 'bar' was, but if Rae was so readily snapped out of her dark thoughts by one, it would be worth a visit. 

“Right, right!” Rae spun, flashing one last grin at Song before she darted for the bridge.

Song stood for a long moment and stared at the door where Rae had been. Her thoughts were slugging, disjointed. She expected it was mostly from lack of food and sleep. Finally she turned, taking in the small, messy lounge where her little family had nested. Blankets were strewn about. The limited food supplies had been ravaged, the silver wrappers scattered like fallen leaves. The walls were still sterile white, but the room still felt appropriately lived in. She crossed to Septimus, whom they had settled on the floor, swaddled in blankets. They'd even tracked down a few small, hard pillows to support his neck.

Song folded herself in beside her lover, touching her knee to his side, her elbow to his shoulder. Then she tipped her head back and stared into the sublime vastness outside. Twinkling points of light, silver glints of distant ice, fingers of pink nebula like sunset. Her heart was thundering inside her and for once it wasn't with the need to run or fight. Standing in the yard at home and looking up at the night sky had been nothing to this. She wished she could step out into it. Take off her clothes and bathe naked in the stars.

“It's funny...” she hadn't been planning to speak, but words came to her, hushed and gentle before the majesty of space. “I still think of it as home. The planet where I was enslaved. I guess this is my real home. Or somewhere like it. Some little human colony out here in the open black. I... don't know if I'll ever find the place where I was born. I don't know if I want to.” She paused taking in a slow breath, trying to calm the buffeting tattoo in her chest. She glanced sideways at Septimus. His eyes were closed, the lids tinted dark blue with suffering. His chest still rose and fell with a reassuring evenness and she put her hand on top of where she knew his rested under the blankets. “I suppose I might have parents out there. I... I don't know if I'd want to meet them. It... it feels wrong, like they wouldn't really be my parents, you know? Growing up I never thought about parents. I had slave owners who trained me in customs, languages, history and maths. They demanded perfection before they sold me to more slave owners who kept me as I raised their daughter.” Her throat caught before she could mention Brute, who had been more of a father than any muu slave master could ever be. She squeezed her lips together and blinked back unbidden tears before she cleared her throat and went on. “You have family too. Do you think you'll go back to them? Would you want to take me? Are we still a couple now that we're free? Now that we have a choice of where we go and what we do?”

She looked into Septimus' still face again, hoping against hope that his eyes would open and he'd assure her in his gentle way that he still chose to be with her. That even with all the options he had in the universe now, he picked her above them all. Because, at least in that moment, she still picked him. She squeezed his hand. Once she had been afraid to let him get attached, and here she was, inwardly begging him not to leave her alone in this vastness of freedom.

“Look at it all... it just goes on and on,” she let her eyes feast once more of the transcendent scene outside the window. “I have no idea what I'm doing out here... where I'm going... but I know I want to see it all. It's... well it's terrifying. Who am I now that I'm not 'Song the slave'? Who are any of us? I suppose we'll all find out.”

Song didn't allow herself to ponder a scenario where her little family all went their separate ways. At least not for the moment. She knew that one day, they'd part; but not for a while. Not for a good, long while. Please.

Something round and silver flashed past the wide viewing window and Song's dancing heart leaped into her throat. She scrambled to her feet, crossing the room and pressing her forehead to the thick glass. The object was gone. It had moved so fast, and she knew it couldn't be some chuck of space debris.

“Song!” The intercom screeched with Five's shout. “Get up here, we need you!”

Song spun on her heel so fast she had to catch herself on the wall for balance before she shot one more nervous look at Septimus, then darted out of the room faster than her nutrition deprived muscles liked.

She skidded to a stop, nearly sliding right past the bridge door. “What's going on?” She gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

“Another ship!” Cale said. His attention did not lift from the the controls as he directed Five's flying. The salarian seemed to have them taking evasive action and Song felt the little ship pushed to the limit as the inertial dampeners struggled to compensate for Cale's fancy flying techniques.

“I suppose if we're dodging them, they're not friendly?” Song asked, dragging herself to her station to watch the blinking readout. The ship that chased them appeared to larger than theirs and more circular. It was managing to keep up, but perhaps that was because their little ship was chugging along while the strangers' zipped this way and that with apparent ease.

“They fired a warning shot across our bow and hailed us to say 'prepare to be boarded,” Rae said. She had stepped out of the way and was clinging to the door frame.

“Well, shit,” Song hissed. “What's the plan?”

“It looks like an asari ship,” Cale was tilting his head, trying to see their foe through the limited front screen.

Song shuddered. Asari. Those blue psychopaths that would take you apart as soon as look at you? She unconsciously rubbed her arm as remembered being tossed against hard stone, her bone snapping with the impact. If those people were chasing them now, perhaps their freedom was over already. “Can we out-fly them?” Song asked, turning back to watch the little icons on her screen, twirling together as though caught in a twisting, spacial dance.

“Probably not.” Cale gritted his teeth. “Up, Five! We need to go up and bear starboard! C'mon!”

Song's eyes snapped to the salarian. He had his hands spread over the controls, but she could see them shaking. His motions were slowing, each swing of their little vessel growing more and more sluggish. Cale grasped Five's arm. “Dammit, Five this is not the time give in! Come on, buddy!”

Five seemed to rally, taking in a great, shuddering breath, he splayed his fingers over the controls again and for a moment 'The Ship' zipped into unexpected action, darting left and right like a small animal determined to evade a predator. How long could they keep it up? They were avoiding the asari ship, certainly, but not breaking away. It followed them doggedly, matching every maneuver, every switchback and barrel roll.

Five let out a breathy gasp and tipped sideways. “Shit!” Song choked out, reaching ineffectually for her friend.

“I've got you!” Cale managed to catch the toppling salarian whose long body lolled against him.

“No no no no,” Squeaked Rae, still clutching the door frame.

Song echoed the little drell's sentiments as their ship glided to a graceful stop. Song rushed to Five's side, where Cale had given up trying to keep the lanky tangle of limbs upright and had lowered them both to the floor. “Five? Five, buddy, come on now. Don't do this please,” Casle was whispering to their friend.

Song dropped to her knees, grasping at Five's limp hand. Her fingers crept briefly up his wrist, seeking his pulse. She found it, still strong enough that she knew he wasn't on death's door, but weaker than she would have liked. He desperately needed water and a rest, but instead he'd doggedly kept them flying. She wrapped his slim hand in both of herself.

“The ships approaching.” Rae was leaned over Song's scanning station. “They're going to board! What the fuck do we do?!”

“Get our weapons,” Song surged to her feet, letting Five's hand slip away. “If this ends today, it doesn't end without a fight.”

“Song... are you-” Cale cut his own words short when he saw the look on her face. Gingerly he lowered Five's head to the floor before he scrambled to his feet and followed the two women to the closet where they had stowed their gear.

“I'll take point,” said Song, her voice low and harsh as stone against stone. “You two flank me with your guns.”

“Tell me we're going to try negotiating first,” Cale said as he took the firearm Rae offered him.

“If we don't get blasted on our asses by bitoics first, sure,” said Song, hefting her polearm. It was tight quarters in the little ship, but perhaps she could use that to her advantage to funnel the enemy into her blade, plus a peppering of Cale and Rae's bullets.

A distant rumble rocked 'The Ship'. Cale chewed his lip, glancing around as though enemies might come from every direction. “They've locked on to us. They're looking for the best point of entry.”

“If they can't find one, they'll make one,” Rae said, her one voice transformed from a frightened whimper to that of a hardened veteran as soon as she had weapon in hand. Her large eyes were narrowed, almost predatory, as she too scanned the corridor.

“Would they come in through the main door? The one we used?” Song asked.

“More likely through a docking port,” Cale said, gesturing the two down the hall. “Ships have them in case they need to dock in space rather than on a planet or in a station. They're for taking on supplies, letting the crew out for space walks, things like that.”

“I don't know if the muu have those,” Song admitted.

“Well, I guess we'll find out, won't we. I imagine it's aft. They usually are.” He cocked an eyebrow at Song's blank expression. “Near the ass end of the ship.”

“Right.”

Song and what remained of Yellow Team took up their pathetic formation and made their way to the back of 'The Ship'. As so often happened when there was danger, Song's mind found a way to rove, making her wish disjointedly that they'd bothered to rename their vessel before it was taken from them.

“There we go!” Cale gestured upwards with the barrel of his gun. At the end of a hall was an open door and above it, what looked like some kind of porthole. Already Song could hear thumping, and the hiss of what might have been a blowtorch. Their attackers weren't wasting time trying to open the portal the correct way.

“Aright,” Song breathed. “I guess this is it. It's... it's been... well, I can't say it's been good. It's been something-- fighting with you, and all of Yellow team.”

“It's been something,” Rae echoed, tone solemn.

“It's been something.” Cale's hands tightened noticeably on the grip of his gun as he took aim at the porthole.

A loud hiss filled the corridor and sparks rained down from the thick porthole door before it was thrown back on its hinges. For a moment only a rush of fresher air than Song had smelled in a while gusted into the hall. Then feet appeared and three armed asari dropped down. They staggered back in surprise, faced with a polearm. Clearly they had not been expecting this sort of welcome.

They swiftly recovered, leveling their guns at 'The Ship's' tiny crew. These people had armor. Likely they had personal shields as well. It would take a lot of blows with a polearm to hack through those kind of defenses. Song held her ground, hands gripped so tightly around the haft of her weapon that little needles of pain shot up her wrist.

“Stand down,” one of the asari said, raising her chin. Her dark blue eyes shone with dominance. “Stand down and stand out of our way while we search your ship, and you might live.”

“We haven't got anything,” said Cale. Song could feel his tightly coiled energy at her shoulder.

The gaze of the asari taking point drifted over the sorry remainder of Yellow Team. Was it Song's imagination, or was there some surprise and sympathy in her eyes? Two more asari dropped down and stared confusedly at the little standoff. The first asari raised a white brow, which was apparently painted on. “Stand down and we'll search your ship. We'll take what we want and leave you.”

“What if you want the ship?” Snapped Rae. Song wasn't certain if speaking up was the best idea. Certainly she and her friends could shoot several pirates, especially funneling into this tight corridor, but they couldn't win, and they'd piss off these people enough to get themselves slaughtered.

A final asari dropped down. This one's skin was more purple than blue, and she had what Song guessed to be a cybernetic eye, which glowed gold in contrast to the cerulean of her other eye. This asari was clearly a leader because the others stepped back from her.

Song gritted her teeth and made her decision. She reached back and set her hand on the barrel of Rae's gun and she eased it downard. Cale, on her other side, lowered his weapon on his own. Song flicked the point of her polearm up so it scraped the ceiling, transforming from deadly weapon, to something like a walking staff. She raised her chin, keeping her expression neutral, though not as blank as she would were she interacting with a muu. “My name is Song. We're standing down so your people can search our ship. You won't find anything of value. You will find an injured salarian on the bridge and an injured turian in the lounge. If you harm either of them my friends and I will be forced to fight to our deaths to protect them.”

Both the lead asari's painted brows rose. Her face was covered with an intricate pattern of white lines that gave her a feral look, especially with her unblinking biotic eye. Her full lips quirked in what might have been a wry smile.

“Also, you'll find a dead krogan in the medbay. We ask that his remains be left to us.”

Now all the asari were looking at Song and company with startled expressions.

“We didn't kill him.” Song wasn't certain why she'd felt the need to divulge that information. Perhaps these pirates would have taken them more seriously if they thought Song and company had taken out a krogan.

“Stand aside,” the lead asari instructed. The friends pressed themselves back against the wall and the pirates moved in, taking away their guns and Song's polearm, though they seemed baffled by the archaic weapon. Song could tell it was taking every ounce of restraint Rae had not to trip the pirates as they walked by.

“My name is Rilixnia D'naran.” The purple skinned asari said, folding her arms and watching her people work. “You may call me Rilix. I don't usually get so familiar with people whose ships we board, but I'll make an exception today because I really need to know who you are and what happened here. I've never even seen a vessel like this. What is it?”

“It's a muu family transport cruiser,” Song answered.

“Song,” hissed Rae under her breath. “We shouldn't be talking to these people.”

Song ignored the furious drell as she met the two-toned stare of the asari leader. It was strange to finally talk to one of their kind. In the arena the asari had always been a looming threat, an impenetrable obstacle. This woman seemed steady, calm, and not likely to suddenly slam Song against a wall. Granted, things could change the moment this woman decided she didn't like the look of Song or her team.

The pirate planted hands on her hips. “Alright, I'll bite. What the hell is a muu?”

As the asari pirates searched the ship, none too quietly, Song gave their leader an abbreviated recap of her enslavement. Rilix listened with quiet intensity, fascination written on her face. When Song had finished Rilix whistled low. “This is... well, damn. I'm not really in tune with our government for obvious reasons, but I have a feeling the council aren't going to be happy when they hear how many of their own races are being held captive on that side of space.”

“Yeah?” Cale spoke at last. The little crew had been allowed to sit as they talked, and the pilot rested his forearms on his knees. “I know Song wasn't taken from a sanctioned earth colony, but she's still human. I was snatched from my job as a law abiding citizen. Rae here... well I assume she was at least born in council space.”

Rae just glared, clearly not as resigned to the situation as either of her friends.

“I don't know the laws... at least the ones I don't break.” Rilix, who was squatting beside them, rocked back on her heels. “But I have a feeling you might be able to work something out with the council about this. They can't have known it was going on.”

“We're done ma'am,” one of the asari who had been searching the ship had returned. “They weren't kidding. There's nothing in this tub except weird tech and a few medigel.”

Rilix got to her feet, rubbing the back of her neck. “Not even food?”

“Nope.” The asari glanced sideways down to where Song and company sat. “There's a water dispenser, but that's about it. They weren't kidding about the dead krogan, or their injured people either. The turian we found is barely alive.”

Song's heart hitched. Septimus might not even live out the day if they continued in their little ship on their quest to who knew where. She fixed her gaze on Rilix's face until the pirate leader looked back. A moment of silent understand passed between them. 'Help my people.'

Rilix winced. Obviously she'd come to take resources, not give them away, yet she couldn't seem to drag her eyes from Song's. “Look,” Song said, her voice tight with a desperation she refused to show on her face. “I know you could just take this ship anyway, if you wanted it, but can we make a deal? You can have this vessel and all the muu tech inside-”

“There is a lot of weird tech here, Captain,” the returned searcher agreed. “No weapons, but this thing seems to fly using biotics to pilot it.”

Rilix's lips tightened. “So this deal... what do you get out of it?”

“Just... just take us to the nearest space station where I can make contact with family I have,” Cale said, dragging himself unsteadily to his feet.

“Nearest station is Omega,” Rilix mused.

“I'm familiar with it,” Rae piped up.

“You all don't have any credits, I'd bet my life on that.” Rilix said. “You can't do shit at Omega without credits. Not even make a vid-call.” She chewed lower her lip for a moment. “I had a daughter go missing once. Slavers took her. I never saw her again and now I've got a hunch where she might have wound up. This ship has the mass relay code for reaching that muu station?”

“Yes,” Cale said.

“Right. I think we will take this ship, and those coordinates, off your hands. In exchange we'll take you aboard our ship, see if we can't do something about your wounded, and maybe drop you somewhere more friendly than Omega.”

Song cut an uneasy glance at Cale and Rae. “You won't be able to read the coordinates. You don't speak the language.”

“You do?” Rilix quirked another smile. “Right. You were brought up by those muu. Fine. You can stay aboard and help my crew guide this ship in to be towed by ours and we'll take care of your people.” The captain held out a purple hand.

“Song,” Cale whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “what are you doing?” They both knew well enough that 'The Ship's' star map came with a translator.

“Shhhh,” Song hissed back, reaching out and clasping Rilix's surprisingly warm hand.

With a nod from their captain, the asari went to work. They gathered Five, who was conscious again, but too weak to fight back as they carried him from the bridge, and Septimus, who sagged in a biotic field created by two of the asari. When Five saw Song and met her eyes he relaxed marginally, though he still didn't seem pleased as he was guided up through the airlock and into the asari ship. “Take care of them until I join you,” Song instructed Cale, gasping his arm.

He gave her his bravest smile. “One adventure after another with us, isn't it?”

“Would you have it any other way?”

“To be honest, yes.” His eyes dulled with a moment of sadness before he too clamored up into the pirate ship.

“What about the krogan?” Rilix asked.

“He... he was our friend. We don't know any korgan traditions for dealing with the dead so...”

“They have very few,” The pirate captain said, her tone softening. “If they truly wish to honor someone the will burn them. Otherwise, the dead are usually disposed of in rather less... respectful ways.”

“Right.” Song struggled to keep her rising emotions in check. Her lower lip was dangerously close to trembling. “We would... we would like to honor him if we could...”

Rilix thought for a moment. “We've got a cryo pod that might work. It'll be a squeeze, but I don't suppose he'll mind. We can store him in there until you get to a place where you can see him off properly.”

“Thank you,” Song said, one tear escaping unashamedly down her cheek. She let it make its way without wiping it clean and turned, following the asari pirates towards the bridge. Once there she helped them women find the galaxy map, pointing out the mass relay, which they had not managed to get terribly far from, and the code that would send them to the muu regain of space.

For a moment she hesitated, uncertain if she wanted to send strangers with their battle ships to the place where she had grown up. To the place where Asla lived. But then she set her jaw and memorized the code herself because, if possible, she wanted to send whole armies in to take down every single arena station, every point of transmission. Let the muu feel the wrath of the slaves they joyed in watching die.

This finished Song dragged her weary body back through 'The Ship' for the last time, stopping to glance one last time out the big window in the lounge at the waiting space beyond.

Song climbed up into the asari ship. Bizarrely, her heart was quiet, not beating its usual panic rhythm. Perhaps it knew that no good would come of fear at this point. If she was going to die, she would die. These asari could kill her any time. She was on their ship and all it would take was one well placed shot, or one cruel twist to Song's neck with biotics, to send her broken body crumbling to the floor. She could only trust these people and hope that trust would not see herself and her team dead and floating in space. At least if she went now, she'd go as a free woman.

The asari ship was sleek and clean, but nothing to muu monochrome design. The walls could use a cleaning and the whole pace smelled like somewhere people lived rather than of sterile cleaning fluids. The halls were wider, and asari wearing all kinds of different attire, piercings, and body art, roamed calmly, as though they seldom saw the specter of death looming over them while they slept.

Song followed where she was led, ending up in a large, well stocked sickbay. Captain Rilix was there, standing with a pale blue asari wearing an efficient grey tunic and an equally efficient expression. Song guessed her to be the medical officer. One of Song's escorts cleared her throat, “Captain, I have the last one.”

“You got the coordinates?” Rilix turned, her biotic eye flashing startlingly.

“We did.”

“Good. I want to get these nice folks taken care of and seen off on a nice, reputable station.”

One of the asari at Song's elbow snorted. “We're not allowed at any of those.”

The captain fixed her subordinate with a half-golden glare, though Song could tell there was little malice behind it. Clearly these people were allowed to mouth off to their captain, at least on occasion.

“Saris station.” The captain ordered. She turned her attention to Song. “It's a colony more than anything, but they'll let you use their comm and find you a place to bunk down until you can be retrieved.”

Song managed to nod as her escorts dipped their heads to their caption and departed. Song stepped gingerly into the medbay, the muted light a pleasant change from the harsh white of the muu ship. Her friends were all situated on biobeds, taking up every one the medbay had. Cale and Rae were sitting on their beds, with their legs dangling off the side or tucked up in lotus position, respectively. Five and Septimus were both laying on their beds and the turian was already hooked up to at least one IV. Song ached to rush to his side and demand to know how he was doing, but she controlled herself as tightly as ever, looking from the doctor to the captain.

“Your people tell me you're called Song?” Rilix asked pleasantly, raising her painted brows.

“Yes. The muu are very literal.”

“Right.” A smile well formed Rilix's full lips. “This is my doctor, Tetha Soranis. She'll look after your people until we drop you off.”

Tetha had sky blue skin and amber eyes, unusual, Song was realizing, for an asari. She wore no body paint, but her lip and eyebrow were both pierced. She had a dominant set to her angular face and stood at least a head shorter than her captain. As Song drew nearer the doctor's stern expression melted into a sympathetic one. “Your people are in need of food and rest, for the most part. Your salarian, Five, is suffering from serious exhaustion and was on the verge of doing himself permanent harm. It also seems he is a biotic, which is most fascinating. I'd love to study-”

“Stay focused please,” Rilix said.

“Song?” Five sat up. Song couldn't help it. She went to him, grasping his outstretched hand like a lifeline. It was as though she'd been floating in space and finally snatched a tether. Her thoughts came back to ground and the fear she perhaps should have been feeling, tingled at the back of her thoughts. She pushed it down.

“What about Septimus?” Song asked tightly, looking across to where the turian lay. She was braced for bad news.

“Turians are tough,” Doctor Tetha said. She crossed the room and selected something from a tray. Returning she handed Song was appeared to be a flat, brown biscuit. “Here. Not very flavorful, but rich in nutrients and very digestible. Your people have all had one.” She turned her attention back to Septimus.

“Their turian, Tetha,” the captain coaxed indulgently.

“Right. He's bad, but I've seen worse.”

“Tetha was in the war.” Rilix made a gesture towards her temple. “Got knocked about a bit, but is still the best doc I've ever had. Just a little scatter brained at times.”

Tetha pursed her lips and went on, leaving Song to wonder what wars had been taking place out here while she had been living as a slave. “I recommend we amputate the arm. It's been too badly damaged and he'll never have the use of it again. The way the bones have healed so... awkwardly... medigel?”

“Yes,” Song confirmed, biting into the biscuit and finding it softer than she expected, if about as flavorless.

“Yes. Because of that, future breaks are likely, and the nerve damage is extensive. No, I recommend we take that arm off. Sooner rather than later.” She said it so casually she might have been talking about trimming his nails.

Song flinched, her eyes resting on the steady rise and fall of the turian's chest. The doctor was waiting for her to make the call and she didn't know if she could. Was a short romance in the arena and one night of bliss enough to have her making life decisions for the turian? Was being his commander in battle enough? Her breathing hitched and Five's hand tightened around hers. “Can I wait until he wakes up?”

The doctor looked unhappy, but she nodded. “I suppose a little while longer with that arm won't kill him. Now that we have his vitals under control.”

Song expected captain Rilix to return to her bridge, now that everyone was settled. Instead, she leaned against the wall and folded her arms, her expression passive. Perhaps she was there to guard her strange, new prisoners. “So these muu...” Rilix said and Song felt her chest tighten fractionally as she slid herself up to sit on Five's bed beside him, keeping her eyes on Septimus across the room. “If we were to... investigate this transmisphere... what sort of resistance would we find?”

Song hesitated, cutting a glance towards Cale and Rae. The little drell gave her a look that clearly read as 'tell her!' Cale's expression was more complex, as though he understood Song's hesitation. “To be honest I don't know what you can expect any more,” Song admitted. “Either the muu have retaken the station, or its being run by escaped slaves as we speak.”

“If the muu have the station?” Rilix pressed, not allowing Song to sidestep.

Song looked across and Septimus, his breathing slow, but even. Five's hand was still warm in hers and she met her friend's dark gaze. The muu had cut her life short, had imprisoned her at such a young age that she couldn't remember who she was, and for some reason that didn't enrage her. Perhaps because it was the only life she'd ever known. But Five? Five was a slave before he was even born. Five had so much to offer the galaxy and it had been snatched from him. She looked back up at Rilix, meeting the woman's firm, two tones gaze, and told her everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pirates? Why of course pirates. However, these do seem to be nice pirates, so maybe 'Yellow Team' is catching a break for once? Maybe? Please? We're getting near the end now, but stay tuned because it's not over yet!
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who has read this silly little project that has clearly grown well beyond what I imagined it would be!


	33. A Long Time Gone

Chapter 33

A Long Time Gone

“Pirates?”

“Yes.”

“You got us picked up by asari pirates and that's... a good thing?” Septimus blinked at Song, his eyes brighter and more full of life than she had seen in too long. He was mostly sassing her now, but there was still an edge of scrutiny under his words.

“It wasn't just me. Cale and Five helped.” Song pointed out. She was sitting beside the turian's bed, his hand in hers, Doctor Tetha hovering in the background. Song was supposed to be convincing the turian to let the physician amputate his ruined arm, but Song felt he should be brought up to speed before they started hacking off limbs.

“I was there too!” Rae called. She sat with Cale, cross legged on a bed playing an asari card game one of the pirates had brought in. For ruthless space thieves, Song was coming to like these people more and more. Perhaps slaves and thieves had some unspoken alliance no one had told her about. Ex-slaves, Song corrected herself.

“Yes. Rae was there too.”

“See what happens when you fall asleep, buddy?” called Five from his own bed. “I took a little nap too and these idiots made friends with a bunch of pirates that I had previously been trying to fly away from.”

“We're quirky like that.” Cale slapped a card down between himself and Rae. “Fizbin!”

“For the last time, that's not the game.” The drell rolled her eyes, and plucked Cale's card from the bed before flicking it against his chest.

Song let herself chuckle at her friends before catching a stern glare from the doctor. She turned back to Septimus, clasping his slim hand in both of hers. His other arm was trussed up with pins and bandages where Doctor Tetha has clearly tried and failed to salvage it. The limb was inert, and so twisted and mangled it made Song's wrist twinge in sympathy just to look at it. “Septimus... about your arm.”

“About my arm,” his tone lowered, growing solemn and hushed so the others couldn't overhear. Especially not with Cale's loudly playing the card game incorrectly.

“I wanted you to be awake so you could decide.” Song said.

“How much would they need to take?”

“The doctor says most of the arm would have to go. The nerve damage...” Song's voice hitched as a lump formed in her throat. “They'd take it just below your shoulder.”

Septimus glanced briefly at his arm and seemed unable to hide a faint grimace as his eyes flicked back to Song's. No matter how many times Song looked into them, the bright points of green against the dark skin around them sent her heart fluttering. “You'd still find me handsome?” He asked.

Song nodded emphatically. “Of course. Maybe more so. You'd be so rugged and battle torn.” She kept her voice light, knowing that was what he wanted. Still, there was an edge to his question. Was he honestly worried about being attractive, of all things? She hurriedly finished, “But it's your arm so-”

“Do it.”

She blinked. “Are you sure-”

“Do it,” he said again. He slid his hand from between hers and cupped her cheek. “It's alright. What's one arm in the grand scheme? We're free after all! Besides, back when I was taken as a slave they were already making some badass prosthetics out here... imagine what options I'll have now.” His voice wavered at the end and a tear trickled from the corner of his eye and down his cheek to the bed, unchecked.

“I've always wanted a cyborg boyfriend,” Song said, stifling a sniffle as she nuzzled her cheek into his palm.

“I'm glad I could accommodate your dream.” There was the flash of a grin she'd hoped for. Song signaled the doctor, who nodded curtly and began preparing tools. Song shifted to be out of the way and Septimus snatched at her hand again. “Don't leave!” He gasped, eyes wide and frightened as a child's.

“No, of course not,” Song reached to rest her other hand on his forehead. “Only-” she bit down on the word. This was not the time to bring it up the worry that still made her heart ache as though it were pressed in a vice. Now that they were all free of their deadly prison, perhaps she should set him free as well. She wouldn't be a tether. She wouldn't drag him down with obligation because they'd found one another in the arena.

Septimus squinted at her, as though reading her thoughts through her eyes. She looked away, but clearly not in time. “Song,” she scolded. “Stop it. This whole relationship you've been braced for me to get tired of you. You're constantly ready for us to break apart at the smallest thing. Listen, you-” he let go her hand and reached for her face again, coaxing her back around to look at him. “I like you, alright? I want to be with you. I choose you. Everyone hear that?” He raised his voice and their friends looked up. “I chose Song, and I don't intend to stop doing that for a long time. Everyone clear?”

“You bet. I give you my blessing,” Cale grinned so wide Song wished she could give him a warning smack.

“I knew it all along,” Rae proclaimed victoriously.

“Romance.” Five rolled his eyes, but Song saw the smile flickering on his thin lips.

Doctor Tetha swooped in with a breathing mask to place over Septimus' face. It seemed to have been constructed of two partially disassembled asari masks. “I had to rig this together because you turians have such prominent muzzles,” she gestured to her own, delicate nose. “Let me know if you have any discomfort.”

“Letting an asari I don't know operate on me is giving me a little discomfort,” Septimus quipped tensely as the blue woman settled the mask over his mouth and nose.

“Don't worry,” Song said, hand still resting on his forehead, “I got you the second best doctor in the galaxy. Just like I promised.”

~~~~~

The procedure to remove the turian's arm did not take as long as Song had feared, and doctor Tetha was unnervingly good at it. Song wondered just how many people on this ship were sporting prosthetic limbs. Perhaps it came with the territory as a pirate.

By the time the surgery was finished and Septimus was resting quietly, Captain Rilix had returned. She grinned warmly, if a bit unsettlingly, at the assemblage. “My helm informs we that we've reached Saris Colony. Time to see you on your way.” Her word's weren't harsh, but it was clear she wanted to get these 'guests' on their way as soon as possible.

Song felt a pang of displeasure at the idea of her boots on the ground once again. She wondered if the asari would take her on as an honorary pirate, but supposed her friends would not be allowed to join as well.

Half an hour later found Song and company unloading onto the yellowed grass of a makeshift landing pad. Septimus was awake, though groggy and weak. Cale supported him under his remaining arm. Song knew it would take some time to get used to looking at her friend without his other arm. He seemed lopsided. Rae turned back to the pirate captain, small hands on her hips. “What about our weapons?”

Captain Rilix raised her brows, then smiled. “We'll keep your firearms, but I'll tell you what. You can have your blades back.”

Rae griped loudly about never agreeing to give the pirates their guns, but Song was glad to have her polearm in her hands again. It was like a piece of Brute that she could still hold. The training he'd given her forever a part of who she was. She vowed to practice with the weapon often, even if she never had to use it in battle again, which she fervently hoped she would not.

“I told the colony leader to expect you.” Rilix said as he passed Rae and Cale their short swords, then Five his bandolier of daggers. “Seems he wasn't overly eager to meet us. I suppose he might still be a sore after the last time we put into port here.” She peered around at the empty field. Someone had painted a white bullseye on the grass to indicate where a ship should land, but that was all the hospitality they'd received.

Rae rested her hand the on the hilt of her sword and leaded back to look the taller captain in the face. “Exactly what happened the last time you were here?”

“Unimportant. You'll be well treated.” Rilix said.

“No, I need to know; is there any chance we're going to be shot at?” Song asked, following Rilix's gaze across to where she could just make out several tan structures. She guessed they were homes, but they could just as easily be bunkers. Perhaps trusting the asari pirates had been a bad idea. What if they'd just been dropped into what was, essentially, just another death arena? Maybe they would have been better off going down fighting in space. “What's their leaders name again?” Song asked, pulling her attention back from the buildings.

“Arrow. Ben Arrow, or something like that.” Rilix shrugged, resting a hand casually on her gun holster. Clearly the possibility of Song and company being shot before they made it across the field was none of her concern.

Cale raised a tentative hand. “So this isn't an asari colony then? I've never heard of an asari named Ben.”

“This place is mostly human with a few other species sprinkled in. They don't discriminate. That's why I figured you'd fit right in.” The captain cast a baleful gaze over Yellow Team. Perhaps she was making one last check that they'd all gotten off her ship.

Another asari came down the gangway pushing a hovering litter with Brute's corpse barely balanced on top. Thankfully he was covered with a sheet and Song didn't have to face his lifeless eyes again. “Here's your... eh...”

“Father,” Song said without thinking, grasping the edge of the litter.

“Right.” The asari's lip twisting in a mocking smile. “Whatever.” She left the stretcher hovering beside the little group and went back into the ship.

“Alright,” Captain Rilix nodded curtly. “It looks like you're all settled. We'll be off. Thanks for the ship, those coordinates, and the stories.”

“Thanks for not killing us and for taking care of my arm,” Septimus spoke before Song could think of what to say. 'Thank you' didn't seem quite right, considering the danger they might still be in.

Song sucked in a tense breath, taking in the asari vessel with it's patched hull and odd shape. They'd left 'The Ship' in orbit with a few asari aboard and protection while they dropped off Song and company. Song's heart gave a sorry little pang that she would not be able to say goodbye to the ship that had flown her to freedom, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She looked to the sky, crystalline blue, with wispy streaks of cloud. Imagining a speck hovering in the blue to 'The Ship' she gave it a little nod and a silent 'thank you' before she turned back to her friends and aimed their group towards the colony, the gangway closing behind them.

Their only chance of avoiding this colony was soon flying away, blasting the group in the back with engine heat. Song didn't look back again.

~~~~

No one shot at them. As it turned out, the people living at Saris Colony were indeed hiding from the pirates, as Rilix had speculated. While several people sported a few rough looking weapons, they didn't open fire on Song and company. As soon as they spotted the stretcher bearing Brute, as well as Septimus being helped along by Cale, people hurried out of buildings to their aid.

Song had never been so thoroughly welcomed in her life. It was baffling and more than a little alarming. Women making sympathetic noises over her and Rae's scars. People hurrying to scoop Septimus into a chair carry, then to a comfortable looking seat. There were several turians in the colony who rushed to accommodate the injured newcomer with items from their own homes.

Ben Arrow was a tall, tough looking man with light brown skin and kind eyes. Before Song knew what was going on she was too was settled into a chair in a open, communal area in the middle of the colony homes, food and drink placed in her hand. People were promising to help her with funeral rites for Brute as soon as she was rested and all she could do was gape like a baffled tourist who didn't speak the language.

As Song chewed distractedly at the admittedly delicious food she's been handed, she wondered if she'd originally come from a place like this? From a little colony with good people looking out for one another and willing to help strangers. “With so much badness out there, especially on this side of space, we try to help where we can. We're not such a large colony that we are worth raiding for most gangs, but we lend a hand when we're able.” Ben explained when he caught Song's bewildered, glassy stare. He gestured to a white cross shape painted on a banners hanging from several of the buildings. Song guessed this must be some symbol people in need would recognize as Ben continued talking. “We've got allies all over because we've been useful. I hadn't heard from Captain Rilix in a while, so I admit I was leery. Last time she visited she stole a tank of fuel, but when she said she had escaped slaves with her in need of attention and housing, well... Rilix is many things, but she doesn't usually lie, so I told her to bring you in.”

“Th-thank you,” Song managed. She couldn't decide if she loved this man or thought he was an idiot for putting himself and his colony in the way of so much potential harm. Whatever the case, she was glad of him now. A young human noticed she'd finished her food and immediately set more into her hands.

“This is amazing!” Cale exclaimed. He was seated beside Song, avidly chowing down on anything he was offered. “I haven't seen hospitality like this since... well, since before I was taken, obviously.”

Even Five and Rae, who might have been more suspicious of a trap even Song was, seemed to have surrendered, if for no other reason than pure bafflement at the kindness of these people. There was even a lone drell in the colony. An older woman whose bright green skin was tinting rusty with age, who sat with Rae now, talking in hushed tones. Five was steated at Song's other side. While there were a number of salarians to be found here, he seemed shy of them, and Song supposed she couldn't blame him. He knew about as much about outside salarian culture as she did about human.

“Would it... would it be possible to use your subspace communication system?” Cale asked Ben.

The man nodded. “Of course. Rilix did mention you all might have someone you needed to call.”

“Family.” Cale explained, unable to keep an anticipatory grin from his face.

As the colony leader signaled to someone who scurried away, to presumably fetch a mobile com station, Septimus rejoined the group looking as overwhelmed as Song felt. He gave her a wide eyed look and settled into a chair on Five's other side. Leaning conspiratorially across the salarian he whispered, “if we had anything to steal I'd be certain these people were buttering us up to rob us.”

Five shot a careful glance towards Ben's back as one of the other colonists distracted their host. “They could always sell us back into slavery.”

“Must you?” Song asked, creasing her brow at the pair.

“Come on Song, you know you don't trust anyone either.” Five said.

“Yes well, I expect that's my job.”

“Of course, oh fearless and distrustful leader,” Five quipped playfully. Septimus snorted a quick laugh.

“Sir, we have the comm unit.” Someone called from the crowd.

Cale shot to his feet as though fired from a gun. He was off so fast Song couldn't contain a laugh. She ducked her head, embarrassed by the show of emotion, but this whole situation was shaking her grasp on reality more than she dared to let on to her friends. The pirates made sense, they at least wanted something. They had to be negotiated with. These people didn't make sense, but all Song and her friends could really do was sit, eat and enjoy this impossible brand of kindness. She occasionally dug her fingernails into her thigh to make sure she wasn't dreaming... or dead.

Moments later Cale was back. His face was drained of color and he looked ready to faint as readily as Five after a day spend invisible. Song and company scrambled to their feet, even Septimus, rushing to their friend. Cale grasped Song's arms, his hands vicing her muscular biceps as he looked into her eyes like a man who'd just stared death in the face. “Cale, talk to me. Are you okay?” Song demanded.

“I'm... “ He exhaled, settling himself as best he could. “I'm better than okay!” His wild, manic grin established itself at last. He threw himself into Song's arms, nearly knocking her to the ground. Five and Septimus managed to support her as she let out a choked sound of surprise.

Rae jogged through the crowd, pushing past people with little care if she stepped on toes, focused on her friends. “What's going on? What's wrong?” Her hands flew to the sheath at her hip as though she'd hold off the entire colony if they decided to attack. Her warning glare at anyone standing too close was still as fierce as it had been in the arena.

Cale pulled his head up from where he had tucked it against Song's shoulder, his smile lighting up his face, and perhaps the whole planet. “He's coming! Luke's coming here to pick us up!”

~~~~~

Before Luke arrived the time came to see Brute to rest at last. Song stood with her friends and a smattering of colonists, far enough from the colony houses so the pyre would pose a threat.

The colonists who joined them were appropriately solemn. Song had expected to cry when she saw her friend's body wrapped in flames at last, but he'd been gone for so long that this final goodbye felt like a formality. There were no krogan in the colony for her to ask about the traditions or ceremonies, so the friends all stood quietly, hands clasped, watching as the ages krogans scarred body was engulfed in his final shroud.

The planet itself had a slow orbit, so daylight still caressed the rolling crop fields that stretched to either side. The black smoke rose into the blue, but Song imagined the stars beyond. She visualized the rose pink nebula, the stars like jewels against a velvet black. Brute's spirit a golden light swimming free in all that endless expanse. At the same time, perhaps, as the turian's believed, his Spirit would always be with Yellow Team, no matter where they went. Or was it the spirit of the team itself? Either way, they could not be Yellow Team without their teacher and part of him would always remain in each of them.

Song slid her polearm from her back, allowing herself to follow whatever instinct came to her. She stepped forward so as not to accidentally strike any of her friends. With the expertise of muscle memory Song whipped the long weapon around her so quickly the blade sang. She took a few artful steps, a battle dance that Brute had taught her. She finished with a salute, raising the blade to the sky. A silent, shining goodbye to the man who had ensured the teams survival at every turn. “Thank you,” she whispered. She bowed her head and stepped back to join the others in their quiet line once again.

~~~~~

Cale was vibrating with anticipation. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he grasped Song's hand hard enough to make her wince. She kept her expression under control, though she was secretly glad of the rest of her team around her. She wasn't certain she could keep herself together for the man if the others hadn't been there.

Cale was waiting to complete his family, but niggling anxiety made Song wish she could hang back. Life was changing so fast. New faces, new expectations, new freedoms that she hadn't even considered. Things ranging from where she would live and what she would do with herself, to simple freedoms, like what she would wear every day and what food she might like. It was all equally intimidating, and all approaching at the speed of Luke's ship.

All Song had known was a life where people could be snatched from you at any moment. Friends sold right out from under you. Nothing was permanent and perhaps she would never escape that part of her reality. It was only Septimus gripping her other hand that kept her from retreating behind the emotionless mask she'd subconsciously sworn she'd never wear again.

The sun was finally beginning to set, strands of starling purple joining the darkening blue, a sprinkling of stars appearing over the landing pad where the group anxiously waited. Many of the colonists had joined them. The children, feeding off the excitement, had created a long, paper banner covered in red hearts and poorly spelled 'welcomes' in a handful of languages.

“Look!” Rae pointed, stretching forward on her toes like she might snatch the approaching point of light from the sky.

“Oh god,” Cale gasped, clasping Song's hand even more firmly. A tear slipped free at the corner of his eye and he let it track down his cheek without wiping it away. Song glanced sideways at her friend. Excitement and fear mingled on his features.

“You alright? You know he's going to be so overjoyed to see you.” She managed to squeeze his hand back.

“I... I'll have to tell him about Ric-”

“Later. Just be reunited for right now,” Song instructed, a hint of her commanding tone slipping into her voice.

“Yes, ma'am,” Cale said, though his smile wavered and his voice shook. Song leaned her shoulder against his. Rae was on the man's other side and she tucked herself against him, half holding him in place, half wrapping herself around his arm.

The steadily approaching lights grew ever larger and moments later Song could pick up a gentle engine hum. The breeze shifted as the heat of the approaching thrusters pushed against the cool updraft.

When the shuttle finally landed with a hiss and subtle 'thud' Song wasn't certain that Cale would be able to stand without her and Rae holding him. The gangway fell open and three people appeared at the top. The one in the center stepped forward immediately, eyes locked on Cale.

Cale's hand slipped from Songs and he stumbled towards the ship with an automatic step, as though he wasn't in control of his own body. Then he was running, throwing himself into the arms of the approaching strange, who had also began to run.

Song wasn't certain what she had expected of Luke. For some reason she'd imagined someone who looked similar to Cale. This man was at least half a foot shorter than his husband, with small, dark eyes and jet black hair. His rolled sleeves revealed a pattern of intricate tattoos from wrists to elbows. Song suspected they went further, but his sleeves concealed them.

In seconds Cale and Luke were lost in a perfect, wordless reunion. As if they didn't need a single sound between them, though they had been ripped apart for so long. And then they were kissing, sweetly at first, and then more passionately until Song blushed and thought perhaps she should look away and encourage the others to do the same.

“Luke, I need you to meet my friends. Without these people I wouldn't have survived.” Hand in hand the two men returned to where Song and company stood waiting. The colonists whooped and cheered, though they were mostly ignored by the happy couple and friends. “This is Five. He's got a bit of an attitude, but he's the bravest man I've ever met,” Cale introduced. Luke smiled warmly, his face flushed with joy. He looked as though he might never let go his husband's hand again.

“Good to finally meet you,” Five said timidly, blinking in confusion at Luke's outstretched hand until the man simply took one of Five's and gave it a hearty shake.

“Rae... this little drell isn't afraid of anything. I would suggest staying on her good side.”

“I'll remember that.” Luke beamed as he shook Rae's hand next. He had a quiet sort of joy, a sweet contrast to Cale's wild enthusiasm. While the blonde man grinned wide, Luke's smaller, gentler happiness was just as infectious.

“This is Septimus. There's no one more loyal in the galaxy, I guarantee you.”

“Oh, I'm certain there is.” Septimus' mandibles clung to his jaw in a blush.

“And finally, Song. She's our illustrious leader and I can tell you without a single doubt that were it not for this woman, I'd be dead.”

Luke clasped Song's hand in his, smiling so warmly into her eyes she felt bathed in light. She ducked her head, fighting the urge to purge the emotion from her face. Let them see. “He's exaggerating.”

“I would have been laying by a holographic river with an arrow in me that first day in the arena if Song hadn't come to my aid.” Cale insisted. “She never left a man behind. Best leader we could have asked for.”

“I only meant to wound,” Septimus piped up shyly. “When I shot you.”

“Wait, you shot him?” Luke asked, pointing from Septimus to Cale with a confused squint.

“It's a long, long story,” Cale said, before unceremoniously kissing his husband again. “Come on. Let's see if these nice folks will let us stay for dinner and I'll tell you the whole thing!”

Song and her little family followed Cale and Luke back towards the colony houses. Septimus slipped his hand into hers and she willingly slowed her steps so he could more easily keep up. Though he was mostly recovered, the exhaustion hadn't quite left him.

Song tilted her head back, finally treated to the canopy of stars she'd been waiting for. Whatever this strange new life held in store, she could face it. She'd faced death more often than any person had a right to, and come out, if not on top, then at least still able to laugh in its face. She had a good family and she knew they all loved her. Whatever this new life was it was hers. Whatever this new freedom brought, she would face it with the warrior spirit that blazed inside her.

 

The End

 

Stay tuned for the epilogue coming soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, hey kids.... we finally got our 'The End'! Damn, it was a long hard road. Sorry if this chapter felt a bit rushed again. My real life is really getting up in my business, but I knew I had to finish this book. Don't worry, epilogue is still coming!
> 
> I have plans to eventually rework this book into an original piece of fiction, so PLEASE share your thoughts. Things that could have been better. Things you loved that you feel need to stay in the story! Was the ending satisfactory? Did I leave too meany threads unresolved? Comment and let me know!
> 
> I also thought of having a scene with Song reuniting with her folks, (Yes, they're still alive!) but it didn't suit the tone of this story. If you want to see that as a little stand-alone or addition, or you think it SHOULD be in the story when it becomes an actual book, shout and wave your arms in the comment section!


	34. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, I stayed up plate editing this last night and almost forgot to post it today!

Epilogue

“Thrusters?”

“Cut to half.”

Septimus reached across to Song's side of the shuttle controls and flipped a switch. He cut a glance in her direction. “Fruit salad?”

“Going strong,” Song replied, cradling the wide bowl in her lap. It had a lid, but she and her mate had spent the entire morning perfecting the dessert and they were not about to let it spill on reentry. Cooking together and trying new foods had swiftly become one of their favorite activities. It had helped make the prospect of all the universe's daunting choices, big and small, seem more manageable.

The shuttle gave a little buck and Song raised the salad from her thighs, holding it at the perfect angle so as not to disturb a single berry. Perhaps Septimus, with his biotic arm, should have been in charge of babysitting their culinary treasure, but it was his turn to drive.

“Did we get the weather report from Cale?” Song asked as the shuttle evened out again. Entering Earth's atmo was always a little bumpy.

“He said the rain should be holding off until tomorrow so we're good for a 'cookout.'” The turian made air quotes with the first finger of each hand before he returned to the controls. The little shuttle skipped neatly around several larger ships that were also heading down.

Every time she saw it Song marveled at how blue Earth was. The muu homeworld had possessed only two large bodies of water, but earth wore them proudly, like an elegant shroud. Though much of humanity had been forced back from their coastlines due to the rising levels of that same water, they still reveled in it and spent an unnerving amount of time out on in, floating in boats of various sizes. The first time Cale had told Song about this she nearly started to hyperventilate, but he assured her that she would not be required to have anything to do with the water.

Song reached for the panel and tapped a button that would transmit their entry permission codes and officially business to the planetary defense computer. It monitored all incoming and outgoing traffic for this popular destination. No matter how far afield they lived, humans had an inexorable soft spot for their homeworld, Song had found.

“Diplomatic Status Confirmed. Welcome Ambassador,” an electronic voice chirped merrily through their comm.

Septimus clucked his tongue, “Welcome Ambassador and Captain,” he corrected uselessly.

Song chuckled, giving him her best cocky grin, which she was steadily learning from Cale. “Sorry, I outrank you. Computers don't care about captains.”

“Well they should.” He folded his arms and pretended to pout, though his eyes twinkled when he looked at her. It seemed no matter how long they were together he would always look at her the same way; with that hint of awe that he had worn that day she had attacked a guard to protect him. As if part of him still wasn't certain she'd truly allowed him into her life. For his deep and seemingly fathomless loyalty Song continued to feel her own amazement and gratefulness.

“We're late,” Song grumbled as she checked the on-board clocks. They shifted automatically from Citadel Standard Time to Local Earth Time as the shuttle zipped downward, heading for North America.

“An Ambassador arrives exactly when she means to,” Septimus proclaimed, jabbing a finger into the air.

“Tell that to Cale. I'll bet your shiny new arm that he's already certain we were killed by pirates before we even reached the Mass Relay.” Song said, watching as the shuttle settled in over the swiftly churning landscape of the United States. “He's probably phoning the authorities right now. Sending out a search party.” They flew on, heading for the place called Wisconsin where, according to their human friend, it was Autumn.

Ten minutes later Septimus brought the shuttle to a gliding stop on the gravel landing pad in front of Cale and Luke's home. It was already dotted with shuttles.

The house looked just the same as it had the last time Song had been there. Dark wood siding, wide windows overlooking a lake, and earth-trees growing all around. Song had never experienced a world where trees changed color and even dropped all their leaves until she had lived with her friend for almost a year after they had finally gotten free of the muu. While the others had life experiences with this galaxy to fall back on, Song had to be trained from scratch (as did Five). Both had worked hard to acclimate quickly. and their friends remained at their side. Septimus had returned to his own home for a while to reunite with his family, but he returned often to visit for long stretches.

Though Cale's home was wonderful, and welcoming, and perfect for himself and Luke, Song had never felt quite right until she was able to get back amongst the stars again. With the Council scrabbling to use the news she had brought them of the enslavement and death arenas just outside their purview, she had found a place to fit. She and her little family had also been awarded a startlingly handsome monetary compensation from the government for their life of slavery and maltreatment. It had bought Song her chance to head back to space once again.

The shuttle door opened and before Song's eyes had a chance to adjusted to the sunlight that sparkled through the red-tinted leaves, she heard a familiar call. “Song!”

“Five!” Her grin could have matched any of Cale's biggest and brightest as her salarian brother came dashing out of the house and practically threw his slender body at them both. Song had just enough reflex to juggle the fruit salad clear of the embrace.

“God I miss you two,” the salarain pulled back, taking them in with his large, dark eyes. “Letters and vid calls are not enough sometimes.” He slipped his hand into Song's for the briefest moment before letting go and gesturing towards the house. “The gang's all here.”

“Is Cale fussing over us being late?” Song asked, following Five across the gravel to the still open front door. It was painted red with an Autumn leaf wreath hanging welcomingly.

“He's managing to keep himself together, but I think that's mostly because Luke was prepared and had him start grilling up the burgers in the back.”

Already the odor of cooked meats was reaching cloyingly for Song's nose. She took a big breath and reveled. As much as she loved space, loved knowing that all around her was nothing but glorious, endless fields of stars, no air filter in the world could replace the smell of walking planet-side.

The inside of Cale and Luke's home was just as pleasant and well kept as the outside. Colorful, ship related trinkets decorated every surface and each room was painted a vibrant color. Large windows let in plenty of natural light, and in the time that Song had lived with the two men she had spent a great deal of time enjoying Earth considerably milder weather from behind a protective pain of glass. It still baffled her how ordinary glass alone could stand against wind and rain. Snow had been most confusing and Cale had to explain the science several times before she understood what she was dealing with.

“There you are!” Rae crowed, bouncing over to join them. She had a bowl of chips in one hand and platter of assorted dips and hummus in the other, but she still managed to get her arms around Song and Septmus in turn for their greeting hug. In the two years since they had achieved their freedom the little drell had grown perhaps half an inch, and had lost none of her wild energy. Today she was wearing a dandelion yellow earth-style sundress that complimented her skin's vibrant pigment and made her look a little like a flower herself. As usual, her feet were bare. “You cut your hair again,” Rae pouted at Song.

Song reflexively reached up and touched her head. “Yeah. Sorry.” She had never been allowed to let her hair grow before she was free and had been astounded to find it grew in exceptionally curly and voluminous. She had let it go for a while, out of curiosity, but eventually decided that short suited her. That, and hair maintenance was something she had never truly learned. She would not wear it shaved again, as she had in the arena, but it was far more manageable in its current, trimmed, state. “Cale and Luke in the back?” Song asked, peering around Rae through the house to the sliding glass doors at the building's far end.

“Yep. Cale's cooking up so many burgers Luke went out to stop him.” Rae grinned, then turned, leading Song, Septimus and Five through the house and out the back.

The yard, which overlooked the lake, was set up with folding tables and plastic chairs. The grill was going full force as both Cale and Luke bent over it, arguing quietly. As soon as Cale spied Song out of the corner of his eye he set down his tongs and rushed to her, his eyes alight with the manic joy that was all his own.

Song barely had time to set down her dessert burden and say “we brought fruit salad.” Before she was scooped into Cale's hug. Luke joined them in his husband's wake, smiling gently and shaking hands with Septimus before Cale let go of Song and wrapped the turian in his enthusiastic embrace.

“You'd swear we'd been gone for two years instead of two months.” Song folded her arms and moved to stand beside Luke as they watched poor Septimus tolerate the engulfing embrace.

“Two and a half months,” Cale corrected her.

“Sorry, two and a half months. We brought fruit salad.”

~~~~~

The party got under way, with more food than any of them could possibly eat, a few earth games that made no sense to Song, but she played anyway (for what possible reason would someone try to throw a tiny sand bag through a hole in a board?) and finally the friends all settled down in the plastic chairs, the sun setting over the lake where other humans cavorted in their boats.

Cale, sitting on Song's right, leaned over and clinked his beer bottle against hers to get her attention. She'd been lost in quiet reflection, watching the sun glint on the water. “Alright, family, now's the time we catch up with everyone's lives. Song, you go first. How's the job? How's wedded bliss?”

Song snorted, and Septimus, on her other side, fluttered his mandibles in amusement. “I've told you twice...” Song paused, counting on her fingers, “no, three times, that turians don't have 'weddings' or 'get married'. When you chose a bond mate for life all you did is have a private moment to thoroughly discuss it with your chosen partner and then you start your life together.”

“Yes well.” Cale pouted, folding his arms. The man had been visibly crestfallen when Song had told him there would be no ceremony, no party or complicated plans. “How's that going then?”

Septimus leaned in conspiratorially, eyes glinting, “have you ever been with a warrior woman?”

“I have not.” Cale raised both eyebrows. “That good huh?”

Septimus nodded meaningfully.

“Well... I might just have to try it.” Cale swigged his beer and received a slap on the shoulder from Luke sitting on at his other side, who was doing his best to look affronted. His lips quivered as an almost Cale-like grin threatened.

“Stop it,” Song scolded them both. “My job's going well,” she hurriedly changed the subject before Cale took it in new, bizarre directions. After returning to earth and settling in Song, with Luke and Cale's help, had contacted the council. The galaxy's leaders were unsurprisingly upset about the muu and their slavery activities. The issue was compounded when, a few months later, The Milky Way received its first voluntary contact from the muu, who were likewise outraged that so many pirates had appeared on their doorstep. Now the muu were making deeply war-like noises.

Song was called in. No one else spoke the muu language, or knew the first thing about their culture. It had almost been disaster when the turian councilman had raised his voice, not knowing that such an emotional display could have every muu scrambling for their weapons. While they had no standing army, Song had no doubt that he muu had already been pooling resources and preparing to fight.

Song's appointment as diplomat was necessary and immediate, though no one expected it to last. Two years later, she was still in charge of the ever growing diplomatic team.

“They moved us to The Dunkirk again,” Song said, settling her hands in her lap. “I tried not to look too pleased when they told me. They want us on a warship because the muu are grumbling again. They mostly just grumble, especially now that we've cracked down on their slave trafficking and theft of persons from at least the counsel races. I've been working on protections for the drell as well. The batarians are PISSED but I don't have to deal with them. That's some other ambassador's problem.”

“I'm sure you're all torn up about being placed on your husband's ship,” Cale grinned.

“Turians don't have husbands...” Septimus said, trailing off as he realized Cale didn't care. He sighed and clasped his hands around his cup. “I'm just trying not to fuck it all up in front of all those important diplomats.” Septimus had recent received his commission as captain of The Dunkirk. She was a multi-species counsel vessel that had been commissioned after the success of one called 'The Normandy'. It was his first command and he was understandably tense, but in reality his job had thus far consisted of making sure Song and her little retinue of diplomatic trainees got where they needed to go.

“You'll be great,” Cale said, leaning across Song to clink his beer against Septimus' drink. The turian looked nervous, but determined as he flashed a grin and took a swig.

“I also won an archery tournament,” Septimus said, with more enthusiasm. “Back home. Really big one. They even made me shoot off handed because of this thing-” he wagged his robotic arm. “They said it gave me an unfair advantage.”

“Well, it does a little bit,” Rae chimed in. The drell had disdained the plastic chairs and instead sat cross legged in the grass, playing with a caterpillar that crawled over the backs of her hands.

“What about you, Rae, how's Mira?” Song asked.

“Mira's alright. The colony is still going strong, though we did have a visit from Captain Rilix the other day and a few hours later we noticed a whole three week supply of batteries are gone. Otherwise we're doing well and I'm learning a lot. They keep me busy.” Rae had decided to return to Saris Station and live with the kind drell woman she had met there. Her days of criminal activity seemed to be over. At least as far as Song could tell. You never quite new with Rae. “It's a little boring, but I like it. Better than being asked to kill people in an arena.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment as they were all overcome with flashes of vile memories. Cale hurried to break the discomfort. “Five, what about you? How's your STG training?”

“Classified,” The salarian grinned coyly. “You're not technically supposed to know I'm even in training with the STG.”

“Of course I don't.” Cale let his face slip into a confused expression. “What is the STG? A boring desk job, right?”

“Right,” Five smirked and sipped his drink, raising his brows expressively.

“Oops, almost forgot!” Cale scrambled to his feet and everyone watched as he bustled around for a moment, fishing through the ice in the beverage cooler.

“What's up? Need a hand?” asked Song, half rising.

“Nope. I've got it!” Cale strode back to them with a large, wide mouthed bottle. It took both hands to carry it and a brown liquid sloshed within. “I found this in a little shop, tucked away on the Citadel. The krogan who sold it assured me it was brewed on Tuchanka.”

“Which means it's poisonous and probably acidic,” Luke chimed in, eying the bottle with distrust.

“We're not going to drink it anyway,” Cale pointed out. With some effort he got the stopper free and a cloying, deceptively sweet smell spilled from the bottle. Under that fruity disguise lurked an odor like blood and metal that Song imagined must be how the krogan home world itself must smell. Cale raised the bottle as though toasting an invisible friend. “Here's to you, buddy.”

“To you!” the friends echoed.

“To you, Dad,” Song said more quietly.

Cale poured the surprisingly viscus drink out on the grass. Rae scooted further away and Luke winced as the green blades immediately turned grey and withered back wherever the beverage touched them. “Are we certain that's not radioactive?” Luke asked.

“We are not,” Cale blissfully kept pouring until he deemed the lawn to have been sufficiently baptized.

This tradition of 'pouring one out for absent friends' seemed a wasteful one, but Song supposed she understood it. Perhaps she imagined it, as she sat watching Cale water the lawn, the sensation of Brute's hand resting in its usual spot on her shoulder. She reached up and brushed the space with her fingertips.

Finished with his pouring Cale slapped the stopper back in place and set the bottle aside where no one else would accidentally pour themselves a portion. Song imagined that krogan drink would eat through their plastic cups anyway. Once Cale had plopped back down in his seat, cradling a bowl of pretzels and munching reflectively, Song leaned forward. “It's yours and Luke's turn. How have things been for you two?”

To Song surprise it was quiet Luke who answered. His dark eyes were shining with unexpected excitement. Cale had abandoned his shipping business when he got back, not in a hurry to be alone in space again, though everyone assured him it was incredibly unlikely for him to be snatched by slavers twice in one lifetime. Instead he worked for Luke, mostly paperwork, seldom having to put boots on the ground in any of his husband's many mining operations. Luke's business was booming and lately he'd been given more contracts than he could handle, requiring the hiring of even more workers.

Luke leaned forward to meet Song's eyes around Cale, who grinned and popped another pretzel into his mouth. “Things are going well, really well, but you know that.” Luke said, clasping his hands, perhaps unconsciously illustrating how everything was coming together. “It's been the usual contracts. 'Mine this meteor' or 'we found a new planet rich in Eezo.' But then, last week, I got wind of a new contract that everyone is clamoring over and had to put in my bid.”

Cale was apparently unable to contain himself any longer. “We found out yesterday that we got the contract! The best part? I think we could find a place for all of you too!”

Septmus cocked a brow. “We're not miners, Cale. You do know that right?”

Luke's tone when he spoke again was unexpectedly subdued, almost uneasy. This sudden made the hair on the back of Song's neck stand up. “You all know what happened at the Citadel last year. That freak attack that almost killed the council?”

“Yeah, but that was dealt with,” Rae said.

“Some Spectre named Shepard took care of it, that's what I heard. Last time I was back to the Citadel they almost had everything repaired. You know how fast asari work,” Five folded his lanky arms.

“I've been hearing a lot of rumors. Rumors from reliable sources.” Luke cut a glance towards the lake, as though some of the merrymakers out on the water might be listening in. “The attack on the citadel was the first of many. If it goes down like people have been saying we all might be out jobs in a couple years... because we might all be dead.”

“So... what do we do?” Septmus flared his mandibles. Song wasn't certain if he was genuinely concerned, or just playing along with Cale and Luke's sudden paranoia. Granted, she wasn't certain about herself either. Her chest was already tightening the way it used to before a visit to the arena. She willed her heart to be reasonable.

“We bug out.” Cale said, brandishing a pretzel. “With Luke's new contract. While he was at the office he found spots that you all could fill. The expedition will need captains, farmers, STG, diplomats – don't worry, Song, once the attack begins here you can bet the council will forget all about negotiations with the muu.”

“I'm not a farmer yet,” Rae pointed out. “I'm still learning.”

“They don't need to know that,” Cale pressed on.

“Wait, wait, expedition?” Song asked.

“Yes.” Luke put on an air of mystery and intrigue, stressing each word. “We all have a chance to leave this galaxy entirely-”

“Because last time we did that it worked out so well.” Five cut in sarcastically.

“Shh,” Cale hissed.

Luke pressed on, eyes widening with portent. “If I play it right, and I know I can, we all have a chance to be part of the team that is heading to... Andromeda!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go *pants* the final part of a story I wasn't even certain if I would continue and never expected to be this long. *Wipes sweat from brow* I also never expected to enjoy it so much that I want to turn it into an original work! So obviously in that eventual version this ending will be pretty different. Because yeah, no Citadel, no Reapers, no Shepard, etc. Also I'm not sure if I'll keep Septimus a captain. I honestly wasn't sure what kind of job he would end up with, so feel free to share your own suggestions!
> 
> Share your thoughts in general! The readers of this particular fic happen to be the quietest I've had for a work this long, so please consider saying hello and sharing any thoughts that come into your head! Improvements. Things you'd like to see once it is a regular book. Now's your chance to help this tale reach a true potential! Go forth and tell me all the things!
> 
> Thanks again for reading this monster! If I didn't know I had a few readers tagging along I definitely would not have been able to keep motivated while I was also editing another original work, trying to beta read someone else' work and, of course, juggling that with a full time job and art. Am I insane? Yes. Yes I am.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reward for myself after finishing the first draft of an original work I have been writing. Now I have two of my own books to edit, but if I need to relax or unwind, this fic might just be where I go. I have had this one in my head for a while, and finally decided to put the first chapter out and see if anyone shows interest.
> 
> It likely won't have a scheduled output like 'The New Ways of Old Gods' did, and I might abandon it if my real life gets too hectic or I lose interest, etc. However, if this tale seems like it might be something you're interested in, drop a comment. Knowing there is interest in a fic often keeps me coming back.


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